


Tactical Advantages

by WhatTheAilell



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, Ensemble Cast, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Making Out, Mentioned Ashen Wolves Students (Fire Emblem), Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, Romance, Some Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27126997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheAilell/pseuds/WhatTheAilell
Summary: Claude and Jadzia have worked side-by-side for weeks since the professor's miraculous return. After their first couple major victories, and as the two tacticians spend more time together, their feelings unexpectedly bubble to the surface. But as time wears on, and the tolls of battle mount, the two leaders have to decide between what is best for them and what is best for Fódlan.About the timeline: This fic takes place during Verdant Wind, and includes plot learned from Cindered Shadows/Ashen Wolves/DLC pre-time skip.Note: Jadzia is the name of this series' femme Byleth character. Inspired by DS9's Jadzia Dax, but no relation :)
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 19
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

Maps and lists, reference books and half-eaten pastries littered the Golden Deer classroom. The fire was dying down, and the tea had cooled in their cups.

The chaos of the room was in stark contrast to what Jadzia was used to. Gone were the neat rows of writing desks and inkwells. Where students had once scribbled notes, practiced incantations, or dozed off (depending on the student), was now the nucleus of Fódlan’s ongoing civil war.

This classroom – her classroom – had been a refuge for so many students, even those who hadn’t officially joined the Golden Deer. It had been a hive, buzzing with jokes and gossip and tutoring. The heart of the campus, Rhea had called it, as more students switched into Jadzia’s class.

Now the room buzzed with a different energy. In the weeks since Jadzia had awoken and Claude declared Garreg Mach his base of operations, the two tacticians had spent countless hours poring over myriad maps and plans strewn across the tables. And while Jadzia may have once held court in the classroom, with Claude her apt pupil, now the two stood on equal footing. Together, they turned classroom theories into realities, borrowed ideas magical and mathematic and pushed each other’s potential.

Claude snapped a pencil in frustration.

“It’s never going to work,” he declared, throwing the broken pieces down in disgust. “You know how hot it is in Ailell? Our mounted units would turn to glue before we even met up with Judith.”

Jadzia, who – according to her father – was born patient, waited for Claude to calm down. Like any teacher worth their salt, she knew instinctively when someone was ready to listen versus when someone needed to vent. While Claude ranted about what was not possible, she had already discovered a solution. When Claude was ready, she would lead him to it.

“And don’t even get me started on health potions. We’re low enough in supply as it is, and I can’t go sending out Raphael with only a vulnerary…” He sighed, glancing over at Jadzia. She stared back at him intently.

“Alright, I give up, Teach. Let me have it,” he said, exasperated. “C’mon, I know you’re just waiting for me to blow off steam. I’m on to you by now, you know.”

Claude caught the slightest of smiles betray Jadzia’s normally impassive face as she plucked a report out from under his elbow. Her blythe expression stirred a cocktail of indignation, delight, and relief in him. Where would he be without her guidance? The question was constant in his mind, with its implications both rattling and bolstering his frenetic thoughts. He needed her. He knew it, she knew it, heck the whole Alliance knew it. Jadzia’s return was the tipping point for him to even garner Judith’s support, despite his colorful history with the older woman. Everything seemed to just fall into place with Jadzia around. In just a few short months, Jadzia had taken their flailing and disjointed resistance movement and honed it into the well-oiled machine that just beat back an Empire assault on their headquarters. Claude had already lost five years with her during Jadzia’s mysterious disappearance, and he’d be damned if he wasted any more precious time.

Jadzia arranged her notes and cleared her throat, pulling Claude from his brief reverie. 

“You’ll recall Catherine has been studying flying with Leonie,” Jadzia began, showing Claude last week’s certification results. “She’s not quite ready to train as a Falcon, but if we could convince her of a more lateral promotion, she could take to the air herself and lead a battalion of Pegasus Knights.”

Claude remembered how the fervent Thunder Catherine desperately wanted to add flying to her already impressive repertoire.

“The better to find Lady Rhea,” she had said as she shakily took off on her first flight since her Academy days.

Claude couldn’t comprehend the warrior’s fanaticism, but at least her new skill could be useful to him in the future. Which was now apparently. He took the report Jadzia was holding.

“Cyril passed his flying exams?” Claude read aloud. “That means-”

“We could have five flying units,” Jadzia finished for him. Claude stood up and walked over to a far table with the last recorded map of the safe paths through fiery Ailelll. While his eyes studied the map, he absentmindedly picked up a biscuit off a nearby saucer and began to munch.

“If we bring all five fliers, which I – of course – would lead,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs, “we should have enough to scout safe passage for units on foot. At the same time, we’ll still have some eyes out as lookouts. Since we’re low on health pots, that means we’ll need to bring extra healers due to the burns units on foot will likely sustain from the terrain. But that should be fine, since we won’t be there long. This is really just a rendezvous…” The excitement rose in his voice as the beginnings of a plan began to crystallize.

Jadzia stood next to him, her eyes following Claude’s nimble hands as he pointed out potential routes. He had removed his gloves, and Jadzia couldn’t help but notice a spray of small, sharp scars marking the space between Claude’s left thumb and forefinger – the sign of an archer. Had there been so many five years ago?

“The real trick will be ensuring the pass stays open.” Claude swallowed his last bite of tea biscuit and crossed an arm in front of her as he pointed to the valley’s mouth. “We may need to make a swift exit, and I don’t like surprises.” 

Outside, the bright midday sun belied the freezing cold of Pegasus Moon. Despite the winter wind rattling the classroom windows, Claude’s nearness sparked a familiar warmth inside her. He smelled of fresh pine, and she couldn’t help but imagine him soaring wyvern-back over the forests of Almyra, his laughter echoing through the air. As he spoke, a lock of hair fell across his eyes. Jadzia itched to tuck it back behind his ear. Instead she poured another cup of tea to quiet her hands, forcing herself to think in terms of troops and tactics, rather than strong hands and soft hair.

Clearing her throat, she offered Claude a suggestion, “We could round out our party with Caspar and Alois. They’re agile enough to move safely about the terrain, but they can act as a defensive wall if things get dodgy. Should they get separated from the main group, they both can heal themselves.”

Claude straightened up and nodded as he listened. Brow furrowed, thumb stroking the fine beard lining his chin, it was no wonder why his former classmates both teased and admired him as a schemer. 

“This just might work,” he said softly. “Teach! This might actually work!” As his voice crescendoed, Claude lifted Jadzia up, spinning with her in his arms. Jadzia let out an uncharacteristic giggle in surprise as her feet left the ground. Claude closed his eyes, laughing with wild abandon, as his tense burden of weighing lives against goals dissipated at the sound of her laughter.

“With the forces of House Daphnel and fresh supplies behind us, Edelgard won’t even know what hit her,” Claude exclaimed as he set her back down. 

She shook her head and chuckled good-naturedly, looking up at him with eyes both playful and proud. Claude’s breath caught as he gazed back at her. The sunlight streamed through the window, turning her hair a brilliant polished jade. As their victories had mounted, and their band of fighters grew closer, the stoic professor was generous with a quick smile and kind word to many. But none could turn her smile to mirth as Claude did, a fact he relished in. Now, with his hands on her waist, and hers resting comfortably on his arms, he was struck by how natural the position felt – how natural she felt. 

Claude kissed her without realizing, a longing blooming that he hadn’t dared before. Her lips were softer than he’d imagined – not that he had imagined, had he? – and he inhaled deeply the bright, dewy scent of her, like dawn on a spring day. His hands moved of their own accord from her waist to the small of her back, and through her bodice he could feel the coiled strength of her, a steadfastness both reassuring and alluring.

Jadzia’s eyes flew open in surprise, only to close blissfully as his lips lingered. Abrupt as Claude’s approach may have been, he made up for it tenfold in tenderness. Her stomach fluttered, nerves aflame, feelings she was all more familiar with on the battlefield than in someone's arms. She could feel his hands move beneath her cloak to the small of her back, pressing her towards him and sending a thrill up her spine. Unable to resist, Jadzia languidly wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips, inviting him to do dizzying things with his tongue.

Just as abruptly as he began, he broke away from her, summoning nearly all the strength he had to do so.

"Sorry," Claude sputtered, taking a step back. His cheeks were hot and he was a bit off balance. "I got carried away. I shouldn't've -"

She reached up and tucked an errant strand of hair behind his ear, going on to run her long fingers through his shaggy hair. Claude unwittingly closed his eyes and leaned into her caress, letting out a deep sigh and all worries of "shouldn't." Her fingers gently followed the sharp line of his jaw.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to this," she mused, tracing his beard.

Claude took her hand in his and kissed the inside of her palm. Meeting her eyes, a foxy grin spread across his face.

"Hey don't be so quick to judge, didn't you tell me that? Besides Teach," Claude leaned in closer, "you just might end up liking it."

He kissed her again, deeper this time, thrilling at the possibility of again, and again. He felt her relax into his arms and he pulled her closer. Jadzia was unsure whether he was just holding her close or holding her up; her knees were jelly under his touch. Soon he trailed kisses along her chin and down the length of her neck causing a flush to rise beneath her alabaster skin. She buried her fingers in his hair again, her grip tightening with anticipation as both his kisses and his hands moved south. 

Jadzia put her lips to his ear, breathing heavy through dainty bites. Claude shivered with delight, one hand grasping the fullness of her bottom while the other began to graze beneath her waistband. They were lost in each other, at the brink of fulfillment long awaited, when a scream cut through their revelry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude and Jadzia both find themselves surprised by their first kiss. But when you're leading a revolution, there's never enough privacy.
> 
> Appearances from Bernie, Raphael and Hilda.

_Jadzia put her lips to his ear, breathing heavy through dainty bites. Claude shivered with delight, one hand grasping the fullness of her bottom while the other began to graze beneath her waistband. They were lost in each other, at the brink of fulfillment long awaited, when a scream cut through their revelry._

Claude lifted his head entirely dazed, while Jadzia was already on alert. One hand still rested upon his chest while her other found the hilt of her dagger. Claude finally caught on, pulling a short curved blade from behind his back. The scream pierced the air again, closer this time, footsteps echoing along with it.

"Bernadetta," Jadzia identified, just before the younger woman burst into the room, wailing. Bernadetta's eyes were scrunched tightly closed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Claude and Jadzia instantly put the full length of the room between them. Claude ran his fingers through his hair and looked everywhere except in Jadzia’s direction, while Jadzia let nothing betray her save the fading blush at her cheeks. 

"Make. Him. Staaaaahhhhhp," Bernadetta heaved between sobs. The frazzled girl's knees knocked terribly as she clutched a slender penny whistle between her hands. "I won't do it, I won't!"

Barreling around the corner came Raphael, Garreg Mach's resident gentle giant. He froze in the doorway at the sight of his liege lord and professor with weapons drawn, as a bracing icy breeze blew in behind him. Claude laughed heartily and tucked his dagger away.

"Get in here and close the door will ya?" he shouted at Raphael. "You're letting all the good ideas out."

Raphael lumbered in, pulling the double doors shut. The big man cowered as he turned back to face the group, his shoulders hunched low. Shuffling in, he still towered over them all.

“I didn’t mean to scare her, the music was just so nice…” Raphael lamented. At the sound of his voice, Bernadetta let out a yelp and scurried behind the professor. Jadzia sheathed her dagger, looking askance at the two men while she gently pat the younger woman on the back.

“What gives you any right?” Bernadette cried. “Who hides in the bushes like that? Is this all part of your secret plan?”

“Plan?” Raphael shouted, flummoxed. “People actually make plans like that?”

“Whoa, whoa, back up here,” Claude interjected. “Raphael, what in blazes did you do to her?”

“Nothing, I swear!” Raphael protested. “I was just in the greenhouse and she started practicing her instrument…”

“You ambushed me!” Bernadetta shouted.

“I wouldn’t call it an ambush. You ran away before I got to ask you if I could listen. So I thought I’d wait around until you came back,” Raphael explained.

“You waited so you can steal me away and make me play in front of everyone! I know it! Look, you lured me right to an audience!”

“You’re the one who ran here! I followed you!”

“So you WERE following me!”

“ _Enough._ ”

The professor barely raised her voice at all. She didn’t need to. The three former students gathered there knew from experience that when their soft-spoken professor had something to say, it was worth listening to.

“Bernadetta, no one is forcing you to play for an audience. You cannot accuse someone of harm if you never give them the chance to even speak. Did you make a mistake while you were practicing?”

“...No,” Bernadetta replied, unsure where the professor was going.

“Did Raphael interrupt you or insult you?”

“No.”

“It sounds to me like your practice was fruitful and that he was the most respectful audience you could imagine,” Jadzia said. “However…”

She looked toward Raphael. “Had you heard Bernadetta play before?”

Raphael shifted nervously with Jadzia’s attention on him. “Once, on accident. It was mesmerizing. But when I tried to talk to her about it she ran away screaming.”

“Then maybe you could have approached her in a different way,” Jadzia suggested. “A note, perhaps, slipped under her door. Either way, you should not have shown up unannounced and hid.”

Raphael sighed and hung his head, “You’re right. I am sorry Bernadetta. I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“But he’s just so big and scary! When someone that big hides, it can’t be good!” Bernadetta shouted.

“If Flayn or Annette had been in the greenhouse, would you have objected to their presence?” Jadzia asked.

“Well, probably,” Bernadetta said. “I wanted to be alone.”

“Then why make prejudiced remarks about Raphael’s size? That is entirely unfair,” Jadzia pointed out.

“Hold on,” Claude said. “If you wanted to be alone, why not just stay in your room? Lots of people go through the greenhouse every day.”

“The acoustics are better…” Bernadetta mumbled.

“A one-man audience seems a small price to pay for that,” Jadzia said gently. “And I believe you owe him an apology.”

Bernadetta sniveled and wiped her eyes. She took a few quavering steps toward Raphael and bowed deeply.

“I’m sorry I misunderstood. You’ve only ever said nice things about my music. I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to listen.” She straightened, her mood shifting defensively. “But no more hiding! And you have to face away from me when you’re listening!”

Raphael rubbed his neck uncomfortably and laughed. “Heh, well OK. I think I can do that just fine. And well, maybe I can make sure no one else comes in to interrupt you”

“OK then,” Bernadetta said, blushing beet red.

“OK then,” Raphael replied. An awkward silence fell upon them. Bernadetta and Raphael both looked away, unsure what to say next. Jadzia’s eyes met Claude’s across the room. He winked back. She turned away quickly, hiding a smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Well, I should get back to training. Thanks for helping to clear this up, Professor! It’s no fun when people are always scared of me. I only train to get stronger and help protect people.” Raphael let out a cheerful laugh. “So, Bernadetta, see you in the greenhouse- uh, I mean, I won’t see you in the greenhouse tomorrow?”

The petite girl still hung her head, but she nodded vigorously.

“Great! See you all at dinner!” Raphael clattered through the doorway back into the cold.

“Oh, why did he have to be so nice about it?” Bernadetta buried her face in Jadzia’s shoulder. “I’m absolutely mortified. Stupid, stupid Bernie! Why did I do that?” 

“It’s alright, Bernadetta,” Jadzia soothed. “We’re all on the same side here. This is a good thing.” Bernadetta nodded and sniffled. 

“Would you please walk me back to my room, Professor?” Bernadetta asked. “I don’t want anybody to talk to me, not right now.”

“Of course-”

Claude cleared his throat.

“Uh, Teach. We still have some, um… loose ends to tie up here.” Jadzia’s heart skipped a beat as she turned to face him. Unsure what to say, she opened her mouth to speak when a bell rang the hour across the monastery. 

“I have stable duty,” she said, a bit too quickly. “After dinner?”

“Sure,” Claude’s voice uncharacteristically cracked. He coughed, trying to regain himself. “Yeah, of course. Great, yeah. Whenever’s good for you.”

Jadzia ushered Bernadetta out the door, smiling back at Claude as they exited. Time stilled, and if he could, Claude would’ve asked Ignatz to paint the professor just as she was then: wreathed in sunlight, helping someone she cared about, but with eyes only for him. It took all his remaining energy to smile back and let her leave.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Claude collapsed onto the nearest bench.

They had not been that close since the Officers’ Ball, when he had lured her onto the dance floor with a conspiratorial wink. She had been the only person he’d danced with that night, the only one he’d wanted to dance with. Later, having retreated to the Goddess Tower to think, he begged any deity that might be near that the mysterious footfalls ascending the stairs would be his Teach. He was so shocked, and nervous, when she appeared that he had filled the tranquil silence of the tower with what he now realized was utter nonsense. The younger man that he was had droned on about ambition and poked fun at the Goddess. That was the first time he could recall making Jadzia laugh. Claude had long wondered whether he should have kissed her instead. 

Now he no longer had to wonder what kissing her was like.

Claude undid the top button of his collar and ran his fingers through his hair again. Where her fingers had been only moments ago. In her absence the air seemed to be sucked out of the room, and a cold set in. Claude shivered, shaking his head to clear the fog in his mind.

It was cold because the fire was dying, because the doors had open and closed so much, he told himself. Not because he was drawn to her like a beacon, a flame in the dark.

He stood up to put a log on the fire, stoking the embers until the new wood caught. With a sigh, Claude braced himself against the mantle, trying to quiet his racing heart.

“Well, that was unexpected,” he said to himself.

“What was?” Hilda stood in the open doorway carrying a sheaf of papers. Preoccupied, Claude hadn’t even noticed her come in.

“You, getting your work done,” Claude said, recovering quickly. Hilda pouted.

“You weren’t even looking when I came in, how did you know it was me?” She closed the door and handed over the papers.

“Turns out, I do pay attention. I’m more than just a pretty face, you know,” Claude teased. He smiled as he began flipping through the reports.

“Sheesh, you’re in a good mood. What’s got you all sunny today?”

 _Not only is our dear old professor a brilliant tactician, a powerful swordswoman, and as beautiful as the Goddess, but she’s a damn fine kisser too,_ Claude preened to himself. But to Hilda, he nonchalantly said, “Oh, nothing much. Just making progress on the Ailell plans.”

Hilda visibly winced. “Ugh, the Valley of Torment. Can’t I sit this one out Claude? It’s just a rendezvous, what do you need me for? I hate getting all...sweaty.”

“Not a chance, Hilda. Besides who better to welcome all the brave and brawny new allies from House Daphnel than you?”

She feigned interest in the lists and maps on the table before her, “Well we wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful. And if you insist…”

“I do.”

“I’ll just have to find something less restrictive to wear then,” Hilda said loftily. “So that I won’t pass out from heatstroke.” She snagged a biscuit off a nearby plate. “Everything alright with the reports?”

“Surprisingly yes,” Claude said as he read through supply inventories and needs. “Although I can’t help but notice that outside of the cover page, everything is in Ignatz’s handwriting.”

“Ignatz used to do inventory all the time for his family’s business. It just seemed sooo much more efficient if he wrote up the report directly than if I bumbled my way through it,” Hilda simpered, twisting her hair. She stuck out her hip and widened her eyes, like a lame puppy. The look had a compelling effect on most of the men at the monastery, but Claude always saw right through it.

Claude looked up at her through his eyebrows. “When has that act ever worked on me? How long have we known each other?”

“Too long, if you ask me,” Hilda replied. She crossed her arms and made a face. “So are you going to lecture me on work ethic and being a team player?”

“Nah, seems like you already know that lecture by heart anyway,” Claude said. “Besides you have a point about Ignatz, he does have a lot of experience with inventory. As long as the reports don’t cut in to his other duties, I think delegating to him is a good idea.” 

“OK, seriously,” she said between bites of her biscuit. “You are in an unnaturally good mood. When do you turn down a chance to tell me off?”

“Would you rather I did?”

“No, but it is suspicious. Is this a prank?” Hilda’s eyes widened. “Did you put one of your stupid potions in this cookie?”

Claude chuckled. “No Hilda, the cookie is safe, I promise.” She gave him a sidelong glance, but finished the tea biscuit anyway. 

“I’d steer clear of the tea though,” Claude taunted. Hilda abruptly set down the teapot in her hands. Claude snickered.

“Whatever it is that put you in this mood, you clearly need more of it,” she declared. “I’ll take fewer lectures any day of the week.”

“I’ll…see what I can do,” he said, excitement and anxiety rising at the thought of continuing his conversation with Jadzia. As he stood there, having a perfectly normal conversation with Hilda, on a perfectly average day at the monastery, all he could think about was the remarkable way the professor’s tongue slipped into his mouth, or how incredibly smooth her skin was or...

Claude shook his head and turned back to the papers in front of him, signing off on the requisition orders at the end of Hilda’s report. Clearing his throat, he said, “You should be able to order most of these from our regular suppliers, but there’s a few things that have been hard to come by lately.” He handed the papers back to her.

“Oh, I always just ask the professor to find those,” Hilda said. “She has a knack for getting just what you need, when you need it, you know?”

“Yeah, I think I do,” Claude replied, pensive. Hilda gathered up her paperwork and with a wave farewell, flounced out the way she came. Alone again, Claude absentmindedly shuffled papers around, looking for something but not knowing what. His mind seized on that image of her leaving again, bathed in sunlight, eyes for him. And walking away.

Despite her earlier enthusiasm, Jadzia had been quick to find an excuse to leave. It wasn’t unusual for the professor to drop everything to help someone – in fact she was notorious for it. But still, Claude couldn’t deny that he was a bit disappointed. For all his flirtations, Claude was largely a private person. He never joined Sylvain and Lorenz out on the town, and though many girls had eyes for him, he only ever looked. Few knew where he came from, and even fewer knew his true beliefs about Fódlan, about the Church. Jadzia was his closest confidante, and when she was near he never felt like an outsider. If anything, Claude realized, their coming together that afternoon felt as inevitable as it was surprising – just as winter always burst forth into spring, even if no one ever knew exactly when it would happen. Still, the arrival was always welcome.

He finally found what he was looking for. “Pegasus Moon Duty Roster,” the document read in the professor’s neat script. He ran a finger down the Saturday afternoon list, suddenly reminded that he himself was expected in the library at that moment. But then he landed at the line marked “Stable Duty.” And where he expected to find Jadzia’s name, instead only Caspar and Sylvain appeared.

Claude was crestfallen. It wasn’t like Jadzia to fib, let alone outright lie. Something was off, perhaps she had misspoke or made a rare mistake. Claude searched the list again, but she was assigned to neither the pegasus stables nor the wyvern eyrie. He finally found her at the bottom of the page, under a heading marked “Free Period.”

Something was indeed off, but as the seconds ticked by Claude couldn’t help but think that the something off was him and not the roster in his hands. He had put her in an awkward position, he reasoned, surprising her like that. Sure they were close, but were they that kind of close? If someone had asked him that the day before, he might’ve laughed it off. But today? And when he had tried to slow things down, hadn’t she sallied forth and kissed him? 

The questions piled up into what Claude found to be an intriguing puzzle, one that he wasn’t going to wait until after dinner to solve. His practice bow and quiver hung off a nearby chair. Dumping the arrows onto the table, Claude slung the empty quiver over his shoulder and left the sanctity of the old Golden Deer classroom. He had library duty, but he decided to take a more scenic route to get there. He needed movement and fresh air if he was going to come up with a good plan.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So why did Jadzia basically run away from Claude at the first chance she got? In this chapter, Jadzia tries to go about her afternoon duties but intrusive thoughts of roving hands and a nimble tongue force her to wrestle with some FEELINGS.
> 
> Slice of life, some brooding. Appearances from Caspar, Sylvain and Ingrid.

Having deposited a grateful Bernadetta back to her room, Jadzia walked briskly toward the stables. She had _not_ lied, she told herself as she pulled her cloak more tightly around herself. She needed her hands to be busy, to sweat and work and clear her mind. And she needed to do that in a place where Claude was not likely to follow. Stable duty afforded her all of that, unlike dueling out her frustrations on the training grounds. And besides, Sylvain had approached her about the duty change that morning at breakfast…

_“C’mon professor, help a guy out won’t you?” Sylvain laid the charm on thick._

_“Saturday afternoons are my only free time in the whole week, Sylvain. Can’t you ask someone else?”_

_“I truly don’t mean to impose, professor, but you see, everyone else here is a bunch of rude, uncaring boars compared to you. So, unfortunately you’re my only hope.”_

_Ingrid sat across from him and scoffed. “Don’t listen to him professor, he doesn’t deserve it.”_

_Jadzia raised an eyebrow at him. “And why exactly can’t you be on stable duty today?”_

_“I’m so glad you asked, professor. Thing is, I’ve got a date with this lovely merchant’s daughter in town. If I’m on stable duty, I won't have time to get cleaned up before I meet her. So my only options are to show up fresh and clean, but late, or to arrive on time, but smelling like a stable. And that wouldn’t be fair to my date, now would it?”_

_“And how is your dumb scheme fair to the professor?” Ingrid needled him. Sylvain ignored her._

_“Professor, you know I wouldn’t ask unless it was really important, and trust me when I say that this is important-”_

_“You think you actually have a chance with this girl? I’ve got news for you Sylvain-”_

_Jadzia sighed. Claude was expecting Jadzia in the Golden Deer classroom any minute to discuss the logistics for their mission to Ailell. She downed the last of her coffee and stood up from the table._

_“Sylvain, I’ll think about it. If I have time, I’ll relieve you early, OK? No promises.”_

_“Thank you, professor!” Sylvain had called after her._

So here she was, relieving Sylvain early. Very early. 

When she arrived at the stables, the tall redhead was nowhere to be seen. But Caspar was already hard at work, currying down Lorenz’s big black destrier, Midnight.

“Hey professor!” he called cheerily. “Looking for something?”

“I’m covering for Sylvain today,” she replied, hauling a wheelbarrow over to Midnight’s empty stall.

“Huh? He roped you into this? What did he offer you for your help?” Caspar asked, incredulous.

“He just asked,” Jadzia replied. She grabbed some gloves and a pitchfork.

“That’s all it took? Well hey, professor, do you think next week you could cover for me?”

Jadzia feigned a jab at him with the pointy end of the pitchfork. Caspar danced away, never in any danger.

“Alright, gosh, I get the message!” he said with a laugh. Jadzia smiled back, stabbing the pitchfork into the damp straw as her breath formed clouds before her. She heard laughter echoing from around the corner and peeked out to see Sylvain and Ingrid walking side by side, Ingrid nearly doubled over as Sylvain told an animated story.

“And then the monk said, ‘Rectum? Damn near killed ‘em!’” Sylvain delivered the punchline. Ingrid slapped his shoulder in a way that Jadzia might have categorized as flirtatious.

“Sylvain, you can’t make me cry with laughter when it’s this cold!” Ingrid complained, wiping her eyes. “My tears freeze!”

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, it’s truly a gruesome story,” he intoned gravely, but his beaming smile said otherwise. He turned toward the row of stalls and noticed Jadzia watching them, leaning on her pitchfork.

“Oh, hey professor. Here to relieve me already? Wow, I owe you one, you really came through.”

“I guess so,” she said, shoveling another wad of wet straw. “Have fun on your date.” At the mention of ‘date,’ Ingrid’s face soured.

“Hold on,” Ingrid declared. “This is not fair. You’re date’s not for two hours yet. Are you seriously going to spend the next two whole hours primping for someone you barely know while the rest of us work?”

Sylvain shrugged, “What’s wrong with a guy wanting to look his best?” Ingrid fumed and roughly grabbed him by the wrist, dragging him toward the second floor of the stables where the pegasi were kept.

“You’ll put in at least one good hour of work with me before you go. You’ll earn this date.”

“OK, OK! I’m coming, but damn, can you loosen up a bit?” Sylvain said, following her. When they had stepped out of sight Caspar rolled his eyes.

“I’d bet good money that they get married when this war is over,” Caspar said. “Bernadetta thinks I’m crazy, but Hilda agrees with me.”

“No, I’m with you,” Jadzia said, with a chuckle. “You might be onto something.” They worked in companionable silence for a while. Jadzia was grateful for the quiet, for the repetitive motion: bend, stab, heave, toss, repeat.

She tried to empty her mind, but the afternoon’s events were not so easily forgotten. The way Claude's big hands had pressed her toward him, the way he trembled when she kissed him back, even the way he had looked up utterly dazed when they were interrupted. Jadzia could feel the heat rise in her cheeks, despite the brisk air. She increased her speed, pitching forkfuls of dirty straw into the wheelbarrow faster and faster. If she worked her body to exhaustion, maybe she would be too tired to think.

But as she finished Midnight’s stall and began to haul the wheelbarrow of muck away, her mind drifted again. What was it Claude had said when Raphael was loitering in the open door?

"Get in here and close the door, will ya? You're letting all the good ideas out." Jadzia snorted to herself. His tongue was as clever kissing as it was speaking.

Kissing. Of course Claude was good at that. A charmer like him had probably kissed dozens of girls, girls right here in the monastery. For the umpteenth time, she lamented her lost five years. She didn’t dare to wish that she and him might have had… something during that lost time, but she wished she had at least been there to help him, to counsel him. In many ways, she was still adjusting to the fact that Claude and all these determined, powerful fighters were no longer her students. But the way Claude had grown – taller now that he had to cradle her neck to kiss her, with a beard that tickled as he nuzzled into her neck– all that was evidence to the contrary.

Jadzia coughed, trying to expel the thoughts from her mind again. She had endured flirtations from many of the boys of the old Officers Academy. Sylvain and Lorenz certainly, and even Felix had made his admiration known on the training ground. Flattered, she let them down easy without a second thought. But Claude, even as a student, had been intriguing. In her role as a professor, though she was only a handful of years older, there was a clearly drawn boundary on what was and wasn’t acceptable. Five years on, the Academy disbanded, and Claude arguably older – at least in life experience – than her, had the lines blurred?

“Hey, professor,” Caspar chirped. “Can I ask you something?” Jadzia sighed. She should’ve known that working with chatty Caspar wouldn't be silent for long.

“Of course,” Jadzia replied amiably. As Caspar mustered up the courage to ask his burning question, Jadzia found she actually welcomed the opportunity for distraction.

“Let’s say there’s a guy, and he likes two girls. And both of them seem to like him. What should he do? Asking for a friend,” Caspar said, tacking the last bit on hurriedly.

Jadzia smiled to herself as she listened. At least she wouldn’t have to think about her own romantic entanglement for a little while.

____ 

Later, worn out and chilled to the bone, Jadzia trudged wearily up the stairs toward the sauna and bath houses, headed for the women’s washroom. With a wave to the sauna boss, she opened the door as a cloud of vapor escaped into the winter air. The steaming heat from the sauna insinuated itself under her cloak, warming her gently as this last bit of effort propelled her to a much needed bath.

The rosy light streaming from the windows of the women’s wing revealed a rare, near-empty washroom. Some pegasus knights from Leonie’s battalion chatted at the mirror, applying make-up and brushing their teeth. They waved to Jadzia as she walked in but otherwise left her alone, and for that she was grateful.

Along the western wall of the washroom, a row of six copper bathtubs glinted in the evening light. Each was separated by a half-wall for privacy, and even so Jadzia chose the tub furthest from the door. She turned on the tap, hot water streaming forth from the pipes. During Jadzia’s first weeks at the monastery, when Sothis still could speak, the Goddess informed her that magical runes written on the length of the pipes kept the water running warm. Sothis had said she even recognized the writing, but couldn’t place where she had seen it before. For Jadzia, who had spent much of her life bathing in rivers or with buckets, the tubs were an immeasurable and entirely welcome luxury.

She undressed as the tub filled, tossing her musty clothes into a laundry bag. Grabbing her soap and a washcloth, Jadzia eased herself into the steaming tub, turning off the tap and laying back against the copper walls. The water was almost too hot – almost – and it tingled and prickled her frozen fingers and toes back to life. The sensation was frighteningly similar to when Claude kissed her, when she had kissed him back. She slunk a little deeper in the tub, recalling with guilty pleasure his roving hands. She wondered what would have happened if Bernadetta hadn’t burst in. One part of her toyed with the image of Claude roughly clearing a table, his strong arms pushing her where he wanted her. But a larger part of her knew that even without a screaming maiden or a giant oaf disturbing an already unforgettable kiss, Jadzia probably would have found a reason to leave. There was something about that kiss, about Claude, that she wasn’t ready to confront. Why had his kiss caught her so off guard, why did her knees still quiver at the thought of it?  
She had kissed her share of young men, from the earnest and eager to the attentive and experienced. Sweet or gruff, they had mostly been a means to an end, distractions that scratched an itch. None had meant much to her. The closest anyone got was a fellow merc who joined Jeralt’s band for a spell. But when the affair turned tepid and the merc got surly, Jeralt had had to throw him out. There hadn’t been anyone else since.

With a start, Jadzia realized that her escapades had taken place several years ago now. Even before she began teaching at the Officers Academy, it had been a while since she had wrapped her legs around someone. The thought of that someone being Claude made her head spin – and it wasn’t just the heat of the bath.

Jadzia began sudsing her washcloth, the furious motion a perfect match for her frustrated feelings. What was it about Claude? She’d been swayed by roguish smiles on actual rogues, caressed much more impressive beards than his. So why did her stomach churn at the thought of his insufferable grin? Why was it that she could pick his raucous laugh out of a crowded room? Why did his fingers leave goosebumps down her skin?

She took the washcloth roughly to her arms and shoulders, trying to scrub off the memory of his touch. For someone who had grown up with few friends – none of them close – Jadzia was in no position to jeopardize her dearest friendship. Of course she adored all her allies at the monastery, but regardless of the battles they won or the time spent together, they all still referred to her as “different” or “fascinating,” like an exotic bird or a dancing bear. None of them ever even called her by her name. Her title of “professor” seemed to keep her at arm’s length from everyone else. A safe distance, but a lonely one.

Claude had broken down that barrier from the start, dubbing her with a nickname and inviting her into his schemes. He had recognized in her a fellow outsider, and while Jadzia had never been quick to trust, Claude had been an open book. And with just the right mix of humor, candor, and confidence, his charms had worked on her slowly over time – like one of his experimental potions. 

Jadzia dunked her head underwater. Claude had always confided in her, championed her. It was why they now fought under her banner, the Crest of Flames, rather than that of the Leicester Alliance. The man had the biggest ego in all of Fódlan, but he wanted to fight under her. And now, apparently, he wanted to kiss her too. She broke the surface of the water again and angrily began washing her hair. Wasn’t it enough that she kept his secrets? Wasn’t it enough that she trusted him with her life? Why did he have to go and add… feelings to the mix?

One of her father’s old adages echoed through her mind, “If it seems too good to be true, it is.” Jeralt had been talking about nobility, specifically payment, when he had said that, but she couldn’t help but think of it now. Jadzia’s heart ached. Jeralt’s death still only felt like weeks ago, not years. The old captain had always been plainspoken, but Jadzia hung on his every word. How she wished for his wisdom now. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. They came more easily ever since he died. Every feeling amplified without his steadying presence.

Jadzia dove under the water again to rinse, bubbles escaping her with a sigh. Without Jeralt, when she had a problem – like when Hanneman wouldn’t stop pestering her about her Crest, or Hilda couldn’t be bothered to lift a finger – she went to Claude. When she had news, the first person she sought was Claude. Damn, even when she stocked up on tea she always made sure to grab a few sachets of Claude’s favorite. Thinking about him was like breathing.

She raised her head again and gasped for air. Her fingers pruney and the water beginning to cool, Jadzia stood and stepped out of the bath. Toweling off, she tried to take a more calculating view of the evidence stacked before her. 

She hadn’t lain with anyone for years, her father had just died, and here was this dashing and dear friend literally sweeping her off her feet. Perhaps she couldn’t trust her emotions at the moment. The possibility opened too many vulnerabilities, something she couldn’t risk in the middle of a war.

Jadzia grabbed her clean clothes and dressed, still lost in thought. Another one of Jeralt’s sayings raised a counterpoint, “At the end of the day, if there’s no one around that you can trust, then you’ve already lost.”

She had relied only on herself for so long that relying on another felt wrong. But was it really?  
Except for maybe the Goddess – with whom her soul was fused – Jadzia had never felt more connected to anyone other than Claude. Was that why his arms felt so safe, why his kisses were not only deliciously exciting, yet somehow comforting? A strong pair of hands and a nimble tongue weren’t nothing either. In the steaming heat of the bath house she shivered. Regardless of their friendship, or perhaps because, there were a lot of things she would let Claude do to her.

As she fastened her skirt, Jadzia searched the cubicle for her blouse. When both the floor and her laundry bag turned up empty, she cursed herself for carelessness, realizing it was forgotten. She draped a borrowed bath house robe over her shoulders and fastened her cloak on top, cinching everything tight against the winter cold.

The women’s wing was empty by the time she left, and even the sauna only had a couple of stragglers. Dinner must have already started. Jadzia’s stomach flipped at the thought of seeing Claude in the dining hall, of trying to voice any of her tangled feelings aloud. 

She hurried down the stairs from the sauna and back to her quarters, a chilling wind turning strands of her damp hair to ice. The sun was already setting, the temperature dropping with it. Jadzia quickly threw open the door and stepped into her cozy home. On the floor was her errant blouse. Hanging up her cloak and the robe, Jadzia threw on the missing garment and quickly bound her hair up in a towel, humming to herself as she tried to warm back up. Jadzia had just finished buttoning her blouse when there was a knock at the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have a knock at the door, an unexpected (yet highly anticipated) visitor, a reckoning between propriety and desire, and a smooth talker who puts his foot in his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, while this fic started out with a Teen rating, as I've continued to write and explore these characters the eventual bump to Explicit seemed the best fit. FE3H is all about highly athletic 20-somethings in high-risk/high-reward situations who develop relationships over time...sexytimes are practically inevitable. This chapter establishes some consent between our main characters before their relationship ramps up.
> 
> There will be plenty of chapters in the future that do not focus on sexual acts. Battles, misunderstandings, romance, monastery slice of life, more appearances from ensemble characters and lots more are on the horizon. Thank you SO MUCH to those who have read and enjoyed Tactical Advantages so far. You've all been a huge inspiration for me to try new things :)
> 
> \---

_She hurried down the stairs from the sauna and back to her quarters, a chilling wind turning strands of her damp hair to ice. The sun was already setting, the temperature dropping with it. Jadzia quickly threw open the door and stepped into her cozy home. On the floor was her errant blouse. Hanging up her cloak and the robe, Jadzia threw on the missing garment and quickly bound her hair up in a towel, humming to herself as she tried to warm back up. Jadzia had just finished buttoning her blouse when there was a knock at the door._

She nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Teach? You in?”

Jadzia swore. Hadn’t she told Claude they would talk after dinner? She felt more than a little ambushed, and knowing Claude that was probably his aim. Setting her face to be calmer than she felt, Jadzia tucked in her blouse, pulled the towel from her hair and opened the door.

“You certainly don’t look like you’ve been mucking out stalls,” he said, his green eyes merry as he took in the sight of her. Jadzia felt her breath catch. His cheeks were rosy with the cold, his shaggy hair windswept and tousled. The top button of his golden coat was undone, and she could glimpse the chiseled lines of his collar bone, his skin radiant like varnished cedar in the fading light.

Trying to appear unfazed, Jadzia simply rolled her eyes at him as she toweled the ends of her hair.

“I wasn’t about to show up to the dining hall smelling like manure,” she said.

“Well Caspar did, so you would’ve been in good company,” Claude replied. He held up a small bundle that steamed in the winter air. Jadzia caught the earthy scent of brown gravy, mushrooms, and butter. 

“Thought I’d save you a trip. Besides, we have a lot to catch up on from this afternoon.” Claude brushed past her, inviting himself in. Jadzia let him pass, raising her eyebrows but saying nothing. The smell of him, all windswept pines and mountain air, simultaneously transported her and sharpened her focus. Claude maintained a casual air, but she knew more than anyone how his every move was calculated. He was a risk taker, but while most people made bets and relied on luck, Claude counted cards. She silently closed the door and waited for him to play his hand.

Claude sauntered through her quarters, no stranger to the surroundings. As the weather had turned cold, and the tea pavilion less hospitable, Jadzia began hosting only her closest friends over tea in her quarters. None had received more invitations than Claude – even if it was just for tea.

He deposited the bundle of food on Jadzia’s desk, headed for the ledge she used as a workbench under her picture window. Handpies and baked potatoes spilled onto her desktop, but despite her growling stomach Jadzia only had eyes for Claude. The setting sun cast a fiery aura around him, and Jadzia paused to watch his agile figure move with ease. He had slung a quiver over his shoulder, but instead of arrows it was filled with tightly rolled maps. With a practiced movement, Claude grabbed a few and unrolled them beneath the window, using the vases and teacups strewn on the sill to weigh down the map corners. Jadzia couldn’t help but stare, following the lithe line from his shoulders to arms, his wiry frame masking a strength that could rein in unruly wyverns and draw bows equal to his height.

“We made a solid plan today, but we haven’t discussed contingencies.” Claude unslung the quiver and removed his gloves as he spoke. “We can’t camp in Ailell if Judith is late, and we should probably only move out under cover of darkness – which might make us late.” 

Jadzia nodded, one finger tapping her lips as she did when deep in thought, and stepped toward his makeshift war room. Though her eyes were trained on the maps, her entire focus was on Claude. She stood within a hand’s breadth of him, and her fingers ached to return to his neck, his back. 

Claude stole a glance to read her face, but Jadzia was impassive as always. A cold sweat sprung down his back when he realized that one of the maps he set out was of Fhirdiad, a city hundreds of miles away from the uninhabited Ailell. Thinking his ruse must have failed, he fussed with the maps. 

“And of course,” Claude began, perhaps a bit too loudly, “there’s always a possibility of an ambush-”

“Claude,” she stopped him mid-sentence. “We both know you didn’t come here to discuss battle plans.”

A nervous smile played at the corners of Claude’s mouth. He had planned to recreate the start of their brief tryst from earlier, cozying up to her over talk of topography and troop movement. If a spark of something truly existed between them, he wanted to feel it out. For Claude, appearing at her quarters was a recon mission, a chance to unearth the root of the afternoon’s surprising events. He still couldn’t tell if she had run away and lied, or just run away. And, if he learned that there was no spark, well, he didn’t like dwelling on that possibility. But he needed to find out.

Instead, she had found him out. Count on Teach to upend his plans. Didn’t their partnership in this war play out the same way? He set the stage, with all their strength and resources to hand; but when the action began he willingly followed her lead. Claude set down his gloves and slipped his hands in his pockets. Exuding a nonchalance he wasn’t sure he possessed, Claude slowly turned and leaned against the workbench, now eye level with Jadzia.

“So you caught me,” he said, challenging. “What are you going to do about it?”

The question hung in the air like ripe summer fruit. She had been asking herself the same all day. Now that the moment had finally arrived, Jadzia found that there was only one answer.

She grabbed Claude’s collar and pulled him into a swift, passionate kiss. A gnawing hunger was growing inside of her, one no meal could fulfill. Claude eagerly parted his lips to her, overwhelmed by the force of her desire. He wrapped her fast in a warm embrace as Jadzia pushed forward, pinning him against the workbench, and jostling the vases and pots.

Claude no longer worried if there was in fact a spark between them. He tugged gently at her lower lip with his teeth, overjoyed and growing bolder by the second. He let his hands wander across her voluptuous frame. Utterly charmed by her, Claude could barely contain his smile as he slid a hand to her bosom. Jadzia hummed appreciatively under his kisses, encouraging him on. His mind buzzed, elated that he could be this close to her, that she would let him. That she clearly enjoyed it.

Sparks quickly grew into wildfire. Jadzia’s breathing turned wet and heavy, her lips tender and swollen from Claude’s attention. With her body pressed against his, Claude was painfully aware that Jadzia’s bed was only steps away. Making out with her was not part of the plan when he woke up that morning, twice over even less so. As much as he craved to discover more of her, Claude didn’t want to push his luck. He would stay wedged against the window seat as long as she wanted. He would fall to the floor or follow her out into the snow if it meant her lips on his, and his hands filled with her breasts. 

Jadzia’s hands left his hair, tracing his beard and down the sides of his neck until they rested at his collar. Claude barely registered the movement, nearly all his attention on the way her tongue explored the inside of his mouth. But then he felt her opening his jacket, her fingers running down the golden silk, any remaining inhibitions fell away as she undid each button. Claude hastily shrugged out of the coat, letting it fall across the now forgotten maps. Her fingers arrived at his sash where she tugged at the brightly colored fabric, only to lead him toward the bed. She kissed him with each step, and the playful gesture delighted and goaded him.

Now in his shirtsleeves, Claude felt his calves press up against the edge of the bed when Jadzia stopped. She stood as close as she could without touching him. A smile played at her lips, leaving Claude giddy with anticipation. He leaned toward her for another kiss, but she tantalizingly stayed just out of reach with a sly grin. Claude tried again, but Jadzia shoved him onto the bed, climbing on top of him as he fell back. 

Her lips were all over him then, hot and wet on his mouth one minute, nibbling his earlobe the next. Claude kicked off his boots as she ran her teeth along the base of his neck. The sensation made Claude ticklish – though not unpleasantly so – and he hungrily pulled her lips to his again. She smelled of lavender soap, fresh and bright, and all he wanted was to bury himself in her. He slid his hands up her skirt, grasping at the curves of her behind. She began to sway, her hips moving in a circle on top of him as a familiar ache grew in Claude’s loins. He was getting hard, and her every movement ignited him.

She sat up, taking her time, her rhythm steady as she continued to ride him. Claude was in awe. Every stitch of clothing on his body felt like the tightest of restraints. Slowly, unbuttoning her blouse, she rocked back and forth as if she were in the saddle.

_Riding. Saddle._

“Stables,” Claude mumbled unwittingly.

Jadzia paused, raising her eyebrows at him with a silent question. Claude quietly cursed himself and dug the palms of his hands into his eyes with a slight groan. What kind of bedroom talk was that? Why couldn’t he keep his damn mouth shut? Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it was definitely killing the mood.

“Uh, look,” Claude rose to his elbows, which only brought his eyes closer to her bosom, barely contained by her breastband and just peeking out of her shirt. The whole effect was incredibly distracting, and he could barely get the words out. “Earlier, you left in a rush and said you had… stable duty. I know you’re supposed to have a free period in the afternoon. I just... It seemed weird, and it doesn’t seem right to… get into things without… you know, clearing things up.”

Jadzia shifted her seat and moved off of Claude to sit on the bed. Claude proceeded to silently and extensively berate himself.

“I’m not accusing you of anything-” he began, suddenly realizing that tack could just make the situation worse.

“No, you’re right. It was weird,” Jadzia said, looking down. Claude clammed up before his big dumb mouth could betray him again. She picked at the threads of the quilt.

“Sylvain asked me to relieve him early because he had some hot date,” she said. “So I left to relieve him… admittedly earlier than anticipated.”

“Oh,” Claude said flatly. “It felt a little like you were running away. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” Jadzia said firmly, meeting his eyes. “But if I’m honest, I needed some time to think. For me, it wasn’t all that long ago that you were my student, and this is a new line to cross.”

Claude nodded. “It’s been on my mind too.”

“Things will change after this,” she said.

“We’re in a war, Teach. Things change every day,” he replied. Claude sighed. “I mean, I can’t say I haven’t thought about this – wanted this – for a while. Seems like this could be a change for the good.”

Jadzia’s stomach turned somersaults. Her body wanted him, ached for him. He was here, lying in her bed, and he clearly wanted her. But satisfying desire and living with the consequences were two different things. Jadzia chewed the inside of her cheek as she muddled over her options. She could easily weigh the risks on a battlefield, but this moment seemed like even higher stakes, and the long-term outcomes less certain.

Claude reached out and rested a reassuring hand on her thigh. “We don’t have to. If this is too fast…”

Jadzia placed her own hand over his, excitement and calm washing over her. Claude’s earnest offer gave her all she needed to make her decision.

“I think I know what I want to do,” she said. Claude shifted slightly, mentally bracing himself for a rebuke, to cool down.

“OK, so what did you decide?” he asked. He saw her attempt to smother a smile as she gave a carefree shrug. 

“Wanna find out?” she asked. He grinned.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Explicit Content Ahead**
> 
> Consensual, vaginal sex. Post-coitus cuddles. Some giggles. Some longing looks. Bodies doing what they do best, consequences be damned.

_Claude reached out and rested a reassuring hand on her thigh. “We don’t have to. If this is too fast…”_

_Jadzia placed her own hand over his, excitement and calm washing over her. Claude’s earnest offer gave her all she needed to make her decision._

_“I think I know what I want to do,” she said. Claude shifted slightly, mentally bracing himself for a rebuke, to cool down._

_“OK, so what did you decide?” he asked. He saw her attempt to smother a smile as she gave a carefree shrug._

_“Wanna find out?” she asked. He grinned._

She was on top of him again, taunting him with kisses and unbuttoning his shirt. Claude nearly ripped the remaining buttons off of hers. Her hands followed the chiseled lines of his bare chest and down his abdomen, every caress a catalyst. Distracted, Claude struggled with the laces at the back of her breastband until she relieved him by unhooking a clasp at the front. 

Claude did not consider himself a religious man, but the sight of her two perfect breasts, unencumbered by clothes, was the closest he ever felt to something sacred. The twilight, dwindling into winter’s deep velvet eve, threw shadows across the room, casting the valleys of her curves and the peaks of her nipples in sharp relief. The otherworldliness of her eyes, her hair – still damp – the quiet strength of her gaze demanded reverence, stillness, though his heart pounded and his cock throbbed. She smiled at him invitingly, her body like a sacrament, a gift waiting if only he would partake. He took her nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling and probing. He could feel the node harden beneath his lips and he began to suck greedily as his hand worked her other breast. 

Jadzia gasped, all her focus sharpening on the pleasure radiating from her areolas. She had had no idea that her breasts could bring her as much pleasure as they seemed to give her partners. While she’d been pawed at and bitten with past boys, Claude instead was masterful. He glided his tongue over and around her sensitive skin, only to pull away and gently blow. The cool air sent shivers up and down her spine. Enthralled, Jadzia pressed her hips into Claude’s lap again, feeling the force of his erection even through layers of clothes. Her fingers dove into his thick hair, grasping fistfuls as he switched nipples. A moan escaped her like a prayer, forming deep within and dripping with longing.

At the sound of her voice, Claude let go and desperately began unbuttoning her skirt – a daunting task as the material had already ridden up and bunched around Jadzia’s waist. Impatient with his fumbling fingers, Jadzia intervened again, undoing the first few buttons before pulling the whole garment up and over her head. Down to nothing but her panties and stockings, she shifted her seat to unbuckle his trousers. Claude exhaled loudly through gritted teeth, his anticipation mounting.

Jadzia expertly pulled down his pants, casting all Claude’s remaining garments on the floor. She wasted no time admiring, though he had plenty for her to appreciate. Kneeling beside him, head dipped down and ass in the air, Jadzia ran her tongue up the length of his shaft, base to tip. Jadzia could feel his eyes on her. Glancing toward his face, she spied Claude propped up on his elbows, lips parted, his chest rising and falling heavily. His emerald eyes were filled with unbridled longing. Jadzia could barely contain her glee as she threw him a smile, just before taking the tip of his cock into her mouth. Enclosing her wet lips around the head, Jadzia felt a salty tang hit her tongue. She drew circles around his tip with her tongue, winding each circle tighter and tighter until she found the small slit in his tip and probed gently. She could hear Claude swear again and fall back on the bed. It was all the encouragement she needed.

She took more of him into her mouth, her tongue straining to circle all the way around his girth. Gently she began to bob her head up and down, eliciting a series of sighs from him that gave her goosebumps. She pressed with her lips, letting them roll and drag across his tender skin for a few passes until she pushed her face downward, taking the whole length of him deep into her throat. Claude gasped, feeling a pulsating pressure as she made a swallowing motion, her warmth and the confidence with which she moved taking his breath away.

Jadzia drew back again, her fingers forming a ring where her lips had been at Claude’s base, stroking now in time with the movement of her mouth. His cock was slick with her saliva, and her every stroke pulled him closer to his brink. Claude’s hands could not be stilled – at once they were in her hair, grasping at her buttcheek, cracking his knuckles, gripping the sheets. He had no expectations when she pushed him onto the bed, and yet she was setting them higher than he’d ever hoped from any partner before. Again she forced his whole length into her throat, her fingers caressing his sack. Claude nearly pulled his own hair out to keep from coming. He couldn’t, not yet. Jadzia was picking up speed, her hands working faster, but Claude desperately needed her to stop. He wouldn’t let himself finish without showing her what he could do. 

“Wait,” he said hoarsely. She pulled away from him to meet his eyes. Her lips, parted and expectant, glistened in the dim light.

“Your turn,” Claude said as he sat up. Jadzia snickered as she rose to her knees to slide her panties off.

“No need,” she replied as she tossed her undergarment at him. Claude caught the cloth in one hand. The panties were soaked. Claude shook his head and laughed.

“You never cease to surprise me,” he commented. Jadzia dropped to all fours, taking her time as she drew toward him on hands and knees.

“Good,” she said, a hair’s breadth from his lips. He lavished kisses upon her, an invitation as she crawled onto his lap.

She took his cock in her hand again, guiding him inside as she lowered herself onto him. A little thrill ran up her spine as he filled her, the easy way he slid inside her. Closing her eyes, Jadzia began to rock and sway, her breasts bouncing slightly with her movement.

Claude ran his hands appreciatively up her thighs to her waist as she settled in. The wet heat of her, the comforting weight of her on top of him, was more than he could have imagined. He could barely believe his senses as his every nerve sang for want of her. She leaned forward, bracing her elegant hands on his shoulders, her breasts inches from his face again. She sighed deeply, a sound Claude thrilled to hear.

"Oh, _Teach,_ " he heard himself say breathlessly. His eyes widened in terror when he realized what he said. What was it about her that tarnished his silver tongue? He’d nearly ruined the mood already tonight, and yet here he was basically calling her "professor" while inside her. Claude desperately tried to recover, but his brain could not recall any intelligent words.

"Uh I mean, see...what I meant was…"

Jadzia put a finger to his lips. Her eyes were closed, focused on the sensations building inside her.

"No, hush. I like that name. But hush."

Claude's mind hummed at her words, his last coherent thought drummed out but her casual yet incredibly sensual assertion. The only thing he could think to do was to bend his knees and shift his hips, hoping to give her the angle that she craved.

Her response was subtle, but immediate. Breath quickening, toes curled, Jadzia tensed, tightening herself around Claude’s cock as she pushed harder, faster. Claude let out a grunt in delighted surprise, trying to focus and steady himself. He was spellbound, his eyes picking up on hints of her inner reverie: the way she bit her lip, the way she ran her hands through her viridian locks, the way her rocking motion deepened – as if to swoop all of him into her. A light sheen of sweat sprung across her chest. Claude took his thumb to where their bodies met, probing through her fine curly hair until he touched the wet, hot parts of her, until his thumb brushed the hard pearl of her clit hidden between her folds.

Jadzia’s eyes flew open as she gasped. She met his eyes with a smile like a shared secret. Inflamed, Claude massaged her with tiny circles. Jadzia shivered as she rocked, goosebumps alighting across her creamy skin. With his free hand Claude dug his fingers into her thigh, her every utterance egging him on. Claude began to thrust from below to her rhythm, giddy with the fact that he could draw this reaction out of her.

Jadzia felt her grip on reality loosening. Claude’s touch was hot on her skin, his movements unraveling her with every passing second. She closed her eyes, feeling something release inside her, like a tether snapping. Jadzia, the stoic professor, let a delirious cry cascade out of her chest. She locked her grip on Claude’s wrist, keeping his hand in position as she felt a rush of heat and light and awe blaze across her body. She kept riding, wetness slicking down her thighs and onto his lap. 

Her cry, her unbridled joy, the assured way she sought and gave pleasure – it was all too much for Claude. He’d never seen this side of her. He wanted to see more, taste more. He couldn’t imagine going back to a time when he didn’t know what she felt like enveloped around him, his cock pulsing against her quivering core. 

Claude sat up and wrapped his arms around her, maneuvering around to throw her down on the bed. She was like putty in his hands, opening to him like a blossom in the sun as she hiked up her knees. Now on top, Claude pushed himself inside her again, trailing kisses down her neck while her hands wrapped appreciatively around his ass, greedily pulling Claude toward her. A pressure was building inside him, a need bursting forward commanding him to plow, to penetrate. Claude began to pant, his body quickening to match his breathing. Jadzia placed a leg, her calf like sculpted marble, on his shoulder. Claude let out a soft cry in surprise, her position only tightening the walls of her already inviting depths. Aftershocks riddled Jadzia’s back and shoulders with tiny spasms as his thrusts turned harder, rougher, the drag of his cock drawing a delicate moan out of her. 

Her voice lit a fuse to a force Claude could no longer contain. With a cry to rival hers, Claude came in a flurry of surprise and ecstasy, his final thrust bringing him to collapse. As every part of him buzzed with the touch of every part of her, Claude shut his eyes tight – lingering for a moment inside her to commit every decadent sensation she brought him to memory. His face buried in Jadzia’s neck, he could feel her untangle her legs, her arms draping sweetly over his shoulders while her heavy breath tickled his ears. 

He placed his lips ever so delicately right where her neck met her shoulder, a kiss so tender and full of promise Jadzia trembled to think he might ignite her again. But with a gentle nuzzle, he pulled out and rolled to the side. She suddenly realized how slick her thighs were. Jadzia sighed and stole a glance across the pillows at Claude, half expecting him to be snoring already like many a partner before him. Instead she was met with his vibrant emerald gaze, his eyes weary but still full of mirth.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” he said as he caught his breath. He was facing her on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow.

“So do you,” she said, complimentary. She couldn’t stop herself from tracing one finger along his firm pecs. “Are you surprised?”

“Guess I never really thought about it before,” Claude lied. He had thought about it plenty.

“Life as a mercenary allows for certain liberties,” she said, matter-of-factly. Claude let his imagination toy with the possibilities of her statement. But his imaginings screeched to a halt at one fact.

“Wasn’t your dad around all the time?” he asked. 

Jadzia laughed, “Not all the time.”

Claude smiled, “Sorry, I just can’t imagine you sneaking off on some tryst like most kids do.”

“You’re right about that. I never had to sneak off.” Jadzia shifted onto her back, speaking her words to the evening darkness deepening above them. “Especially in my teen years, there would be times Jeralt would get a job that he thought would be too dangerous for me to tag along, but I was old enough that I could look after myself. He’d set me up in an inn for a few days at a time. If there was a library in town, or if the training ground allowed girls, that’s where I’d spend most of the day. But we mostly stayed in small peasant villages, like Remire. Depending on the time of year I would help out with the harvest, or shear sheep. But really, there was not much to do for a 15-year-old girl. There were a few farm boys who happily volunteered for my... experiments. By the time Jeralt was sure I could handle myself in any battle, he didn’t care how I spent my free time. We moved so much, I always knew not to get attached. Garreg Mach’s the longest I’ve ever been in one place.”

Claude’s brows knit the tiniest bit as she recounted her story. He had spent nearly every day with her since they reunited on the monastery’s millenial anniversary. Even when she had gone missing, for five years she was often at the back of his mind. Despite all that, he now realized that he barely knew her. He knew her favorite tea – ginger – and that the sandwich cookies with the lemon cream and raspberry jam were her favorites. He knew that in battle she believed in a strong offense, and preferred to split the party in order to cover more ground. But all the little details that make up the tapestry of a person’s life, he’d barely gotten a glimpse of hers. The idea saddened him.

“You’ve never talked about your life before the monastery,” Claude remarked.

Jadzia shrugged, a little self-conscious. “It never seemed relevant before.”

“So what’s different now?”

Jadzia raised her eyebrows and gestured, encompassing the scene around them: the late hour, their clothes littering the floor, their nakedness. Claude laughed.

“Point taken. But you just said with other guys you knew not to get attached, so why op…” Claude stopped abruptly, realizing the corner he was talking himself into. He may not know much about Jadzia’s past, but he did know that she played things close to the vest. Where he was direct, she was standoffish. Lying in her bed now, the thrill of their coming together easing into a glowing hum, the last thing he wanted was for her to shut him out. Not when they were this close.

Jadzia gazed at him openly. “I never trusted any of them with my life,” she said, as if stating the obvious. “And besides, who else would I open up to, save someone who already has opened up to me?” Although he was lying down, Claude felt like he was soaring as he heard her speak. She smiled at him and sat up, lazily pulling off her stockings that Claude neglected to remove earlier. Even in the faint light, Claude caught the glint of gold on her ankle. He reached out to find a stag’s head charm in his hand – a Golden Deer.

"You still have this old thing?" Claude asked as he toyed with the delicate chain. "I never saw you wear it. I just assumed you politely accepted it, but secretly threw it away because it was… I dunno, frivolous."

"No, I would never. I wear it on my ankle because it's just a little too big,” Jadzia said, twisting the chain in her fingers as she smiled at the memories. “You gave it to me just when I was feeling like I had no idea what I was doing as a professor. I still feel that way sometimes, but the bracelet helps me remember that there are people who believe in me, especially you."

She lied back down and inched closer, nose to nose with him. Her eyes shone by the light of the rising moon, leaving Claude breathless. He kissed her, feeling more seen there in the dark than he ever had in his life. 

Sleep was calling, and as he rolled over to get comfortable, still she stayed with him, her arm draped around his waist, her legs spooned alongside his. Claude could feel her breath at the base of his neck, quieting as she settled in. After a day full of decisions he never planned, his last was to fall asleep in her arms.

In the still of the night, he woke to her touch, and they spent another hour greedily enjoying each other’s charms. Famished, they made quick work of the handpies Claude had brought earlier – now cold. Claude couldn’t remember ever having a better meal. Afterward he slept like the dead for a few hours until the gray of dawn peeked through the windows. He blearily gathered his things and quietly dressed in the dim light, hoping not to disturb her. As he pulled on his coat, Claude took a moment just to stare at her. Jadzia was still asleep, her back to him. The quilt hugged the graceful curve of her waist and hips, her hair a tousled mess. He desperately wanted to return to his spot at her side, her warmth and all her softness. But neither of them was ready for the monastery to see them emerge from her quarters together, in the light of day. Not with a war on, not when others in their party still had loved ones across enemy lines.

Claude grabbed his quiver of maps and turned to go. Slowly, so as not to wake her, he gently turned the handle of the door and slipped out.

The puff of wintry air through the doorway made Jadzia shiver. She quickly opened her eyes and sat up just as the door latched closed again. She was alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While they gave in to passion the night before, Claude and Jadzia find the morning after to be much more fraught by the light of day.

_Later that day…_

The clack of training weapons rang out in the afternoon light. Four pairs of fighters took turns attacking and parrying in sequence as Alois cast a keen eye on each of them, calling out drill patterns. Weaving among the pairs, Jadzia observed posture and technique. Between stances she would adjust someone’s grip, make a suggestion, or just nod her approval as she cycled through. 

It was Sunday, when all the allies spent time training and learning from each other. Any other Sunday, Jadzia might have gotten up with the dawn, wandered over to the marketplace to reconnect with old friends, or lingered over breakfast in the dining hall before making her way to the training grounds. But on this day, upon waking up alone, her sheets still warm with him, Jadzia found herself unusually distracted and sluggish. Jadzia had dressed slowly, casting about the room for a note or some kind of sign to explain why Claude had left in such a rush, without saying goodbye. He had only left behind some of the maps from his silly ruse. She had gathered them up with an annoyed sigh and headed out into the brisk winter air, hoping to run into that green-eyed lordling at breakfast.

But Claude hadn’t been at breakfast, nor was he in the Golden Deer classroom when she deposited the maps. Bells rang across the campus, calling all allies to training or to study. The monastery bustled with its usual activity – monks off to prayer, former students laughing or gossiping on their way to train. As she had made her way to the training ground, Jadzia felt entirely at sea. Everything seemed to happen around her entirely like normal, even as she could close her eyes and feel hot kisses down her neck, hands roving across her hips and thighs. Only after the allies gathered on the training ground stretched and limbered up for the day’s exercises, Claude had finally decided to show his face – the last to arrive and looking deliciously windswept and rosy cheeked to boot. Like he had when he arrived at her door the night before. Just the sight of him sent an unfamiliar thrill through her body, but the stony look on his face gave her pause. The thrill all but disappeared as Claude wouldn’t even meet her eye when he apologized for being late.

Alois’ drill sergeant cry pulled Jadzia out of her daydreaming. The assembled fighters rotated partners, and Alois called an end to the drills in favor of sparring. Today was axe practice on the training ground. No weapon elicited such a wide array of skill among its wielders. Gathered there that day were veterans like Seteh and Alois, fighters for whom any weapon became an extension of themselves and deadly in their grip. But also assembled there were novices like slender Cyril and dainty Annette, both earnest as ever. And in the middle of the pack were those who Jadzia secretly referred to as her Roosters: Sylvain, Caspar, and Claude. Young men who each had a Goddess-given talent in another weapon class, and thus were cursed with such high opinions of themselves that they could never progress as quickly with a new weapon. 

Sylvain and Caspar had spent most of the practice vying for Hilda’s attention. The Gautier heir had already removed his jacket and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt despite the cold weather, while Caspar threw himself desperately into each match-up, grunting and swearing profusely – until he faced Hilda, only to let her overpower him. Claude kept every opponent on their toes with taunts and jeers, his green eyes dancing with laughter as he searched for openings to playfully jab instead of going for a winning blow. The tactic wore down younger or hot-headed opponents, but Claude still ended up with an axe blade at his throat one too many times. 

Jadzia continued to move between the fighters, offering criticism and compliments in equal measure. Sometimes she would call on fighters to freeze, stopping them mid-swing to push feet into position or to open someone’s stance. The former students were used to her adjustments and nudges, a remnant from their Academy days. As she moved down the line, Jadzia gave Raphael an encouraging pat on the shoulder and turned her attention to the last pair: Claude and Seteth.

“If you focused more on defense than quips, you might have lasted longer,” Seteth intoned solemnly as he helped Claude up from the dirt, again. 

“Where’s the fun in that, old man?” Claude said with a laugh. “C’mon, I’ve got you this time. Best three out of five, let’s go." Claude picked up his training axe in both hands again, taking a few practice swings.

“Choke up more,” Jadzia called to him. “Your swings are too wild.”

She watched as Claude's shoulders tensed, but he nodded curtly, adjusting his grip. Jadzia knit her brows ever so slightly. Any other day, Claude might have had a clever retort in response to her critique. Jadzia found his silence unsettling. 

Seteth fell into an athletic stance, knees bent, his weight on the balls of his feet. Claude couldn’t keep still, stepping lightly in a circle around his older opponent. Jadzia’s eyes followed Claude’s athletic movements, quashing down her appreciation in favor of a trainer’s appraising gaze.

“Whenever you’re ready, Your Grace,” Seteth said, his voice radiating calm. Despite her unease at Claude’s demeanor, Jadzia choked back a laugh. Nobody called Claude by his title. Seteth was toying with him, subtly turning Claude’s own undermining tactics against him. She saw the set of Claude’s jaw, his green eyes turn steely.

Claude launched his axe into a downward strike toward Seteth’s right shoulder, which Seteth easily swatted away. While Claude recovered, Seteth stepped forward, thrusting the tip of his axe forward like a spear. Light on his feet, Claude evaded, only to swing his own axe in a swift uppercut. The blunted edge of Claude’s training axe grazed the front of Seteth’s doublet before making solid contact at the older man’s jaw. Unfazed, Seteth twisted his axehead to hook around Claude’s ankle and yanked. Claude stumbled, but remained upright. An archer and a wyvern rider, Claude was not used to fighting in close quarters on his own feet. As he stood to swing again, Jadzia noticed Claude’s feet were too close together. Seteth set up for a downward strike, Claude twisting off balance to attempt to parry.

“Freeze!” Jadzia shouted.

Both fighters halted mid-blow, wavering slightly with the effort. Jadzia walked closer to them to examine closer.

“Claude, widen your stance,” she said, nudging his feet with hers until he slid into a more grounded position. She continued, “If this blow makes contact he’ll knock you to the ground again. Seteth, impeccable as always – though you could do with dropping your shoulders from your ears. Does no good if you cramp mid-battle.” She stepped back again as the pair readjusted.

“Resume,” she instructed.

Claude easily parried Seteth’s incoming blow, though whether it was his improved stance or the stolen momentum from Jadzia’s interruption that saved him was unclear. The two stepped back and began to circle each other again, looking for openings. Again Claude struck first, arcing his axe downward toward Seteth’s head, but Seteth rose to block him. Claude twisted his axe, catching against the axeblade of Seteth’s own and momentarily stuck. 

Now locked haft to haft, the two struggled against each other, boots scratching at the ground as they grappled for purchase. Suddenly Seteth gave a mighty heave, pushing Claude back and off balance. Reeling, Claude could not maintain his two-handed grip, one arm pinwheeling in the air to steady himself. Seteth saw an opening, taking his axe in both hands high overhead to strike downward. But Claude was faster. Getting his feet under him, Claude danced away, using the butt of his axe to jab at Seteth’s exposed gut. The older man let out a grunt as he doubled over. Claude took his axe in both hands again to swing from his side. Ever the veteran, Seteth batted away Claude’s blow and went on the offensive raining short quick blows down toward Claude’s chest. Claude parried each, his quick hands moving to block swiftly and easily. But Jadzia could see that his feet were off again as Claude leaned back a little more under each strike. Jadzia called them to freeze again.

“Stand down, Seteth,” Jadzia said as she approached. Seteth stepped away, taking the moment to stretch and observe other fighters. Claude remained in position, his lips disappearing into a tight line – although from effort or frustration, Jadzia could not tell. Standing this close to him, it was hard to believe that this tense, scowling trainee was the same person who had swept her up into a passionate kiss just the day before, and had spent the night in her arms.

“You keep leaning back onto your heels, like you would if you were riding in stirrups. But you’re not on wyvernback here, Claude,” Jadzia said. 

“I’m always on wyvernback in battle. It’s not like I’m ever on the ground,” Claude said, a bit defensively.

“If you were knocked down, or if your mount was killed and you were forced onto the ground, you would think differently,” Jadzia replied. Though she searched his eyes, Claude simply looked ahead and said nothing. Jadzia opened her mouth to speak, intending to ask in a low voice what was wrong, but she held her tongue. He had avoided her all morning, and now he couldn’t even look at her. She should have known better. Hadn’t she predicted that things would change between them? Jadzia set her jaw and shoved any gnawing regret aside. She still had a job to do. Today Claude was just another fighter to train, even if she had gotten a taste of something more. But Jadzia wasn’t going to let a personal mistake interfere with her work.

“So,” she said circling him, her trainer’s eye finding every fault, “let’s imagine you’ve tumbled out of your saddle, you’ve taken a hard landing, and you’ve just popped up in the middle of a fray…”

Claude sneered and opened his mouth to respond.

“And you’ve run out of arrows,” Jadzia cut him off. Claude still held his stance from his match with Seteth, and as she stood before him, his posture almost looked as if he were attacking her. Claude scowled again.

“OK, you’ve made your point,” he said. Claude shifted his feet slightly, his stance more grounded with the change. “There, better? Can’t you go pick on someone else now?” Claude said under his breath.

“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?” Jadzia asked, brows furrowed. His whole body was taut and rigid, as if he were just barely holding himself back. But from what, anger? Disgust? Jadzia wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, get a rise out of him. At this point she would have preferred an outburst over whatever this pent-up nonsense was. But Claude merely averted his eyes again, declining to reply. Jadzia clenched her jaw.

“Then may I continue? Because by the looks of your form today, you clearly need my help.” His green eyes flashed. There, that was a spark of the Claude she knew. She could work with that fire, even if she didn’t understand him today.

“Drop the axe,” Jadzia ordered. “Seems like you need to go back to basics.” Claude complied, but not without rolling his eyes.

“Step toward me, as if you were going to strike. I want to see how you move,” she said.

Claude put his foot forward, his empty arms swinging with the arc of a blow. It was a relatively simple action, but Jadzia could already see flaws. She walked around him, examining his form.

“Reset. Again,” she said. Claude heaved a sigh but complied, repeating the motion.

“You’re not following through with your hips. You’re basically robbing yourself of your own power,” she observed. Stepping behind him, Jadzia placed her hands at his waist, intending to open up his stance. But Claude flinched at her touch, as if electrocuted.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, alarmed. If he was in pain, that might explain his standoffishness.

“Just surprised,” he mumbled, tugging at the front of his jacket.

“I just need to pivot your hips. You’ll transfer power into your swing better,” she said, returning her hands to his sides. He didn’t flinch this time. As she rotated his hips into position, Jadzia kept her touch light, professional, but she could still feel his sinewy strength. And even the lightest touch couldn’t prevent her mind from wandering to the night before, the sharp V cut of the muscles along these very hips.

Jadzia stepped away, hoping the blush on her cheek could be chalked up to the cold. She had Claude repeat the strike. His follow-through was much improved.

“Better,” she noted. “But you’re still putting too much of your weight on your heels. At ease, Claude.” He relaxed, but eyed her apprehensively.

She aligned herself before him and took a deep breath. Around them, their allies clashed in mock battle. But where she and Claude stood, their corner of the training ground was silent. Jadzia held one hand up between them, hovering just a few inches above his chest.

“We need to reset your balance,” she said. “Lean into my hand, but don’t bend at the waist. Center your weight.” Claude tilted forward, the gold brocade across his chest coming to rest just under her palm.

Jadzia could feel his heart racing. She looked up and found herself eye to eye with a far more familiar Claude. There was stubble on his cheek, and fatigue lined his otherwise youthful face. But those green eyes glowed with warmth, the slightest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth. A strand of hair had fallen across his brow. She searched his face, taking in his cheekbones, the bow of his lips, losing herself in his earnest stare. She didn't dare kiss him, not with half their allies about, and not with his taciturn behavior. But oh, did she want to.

“Alright everyone,” Alois announced. “Five minute break. Throwing axes when we get back. We’ve got lots of work to do, so don’t ‘hatchet’ too many schemes while you’re away.” A chorus of groans ensued.

Jadzia felt like a spell was somehow broken. She pulled her hand away, as if she touched something that burned. Claude’s eyes became guarded again and he hurriedly stepped away from her.

“I need some air,” he mumbled, even though the training grounds were already outdoors.

She watched Claude escape through the exit, as their allies stretched, drank water, or collapsed in the dirt around her. It wasn’t like Claude to run. Jadzia could feel her frustration turning into anger. She wasn’t some conquest that he could conveniently ignore.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude's been uncharacteristically brooding and taciturn. Jadzia's simultaneously anxious, pissed (angry), and turned on. They have a confrontation.

Jadzia stormed after him and pushed open the heavy doors to the training ground to find Claude pacing like a caged animal in the courtyard. The day was overcast and windy, the only sound the snap of an old tarp hanging off some construction scaffolding for monastery repairs. Jadzia let the door creak close behind her, the brass handle rumbling as it shut and announcing her presence. At the sight of her, Claude sighed in exasperation.

“Can you just get off my case and give me a minute?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, equally exasperated.

“Just give me a minute, OK?”

“What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

Jadzia remained unconvinced.

“Is this about last night?” she asked bluntly.

Claude stopped pacing and sighed. Eyes to the ground, he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the right words.

“Look, I’ve got a confession…”

Alarms went off in Jadzia’s head. She cut him off before he could say something that would hurt. “You know what? Say no more, I get it. Don’t worry. As far as I’m concerned, it never happened.” As Jadzia turned to go, Claude stepped forward and snatched at her hand, but only found empty air.

“Teach, wait-”

“I’ll leave you to your break.” 

“C’mon, Teach. I know you’re braver than that,” he called to her. 

Jadzia stopped in her tracks. Something about his voice, the gentleness of his tone, made her breath catch. That was the voice that whispered to her across the pillows the night before.

With her back to him, she channeled all her discomfort into a semblance of courage for a retort.

“Brave, me? What about you? You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” he declared. Jadzia whirled on him.

“You’re clearly not focused on training. You’ve hardly said five words to me today. You can barely look me in the eye. You’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” Claude said defensively. “I just can’t handle being near you right now.”

“Are you hearing yourself? If you’re going to reject me, do it properly. None of this cold shoulder foolishness. I’d’ve thought you would have the stones to face me-”

“Teach!” he interrupted, lowering his voice instantly when his shout reverberated through the courtyard. “Reject you? Are you kidding? I had to come out here because I could barely control myself around you. I can’t focus on anything but you.”

Jadzia had been bracing for a reaction somewhere between callousness and venom. Sincerity, ardor – those she was not prepared for.

“You weren’t at breakfast. You left…” Her voice faltered. “You left this morning without saying goodbye. What was I supposed to think?”

Claude’s shoulders dropped, his eyes softened. “You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you. Trust me, I didn’t want to leave. But I didn’t want to overstay my welcome either. You know how gossip spreads like wildfire around here.”

He reached out again to take her hand. This time she let him, let him envelop her chilled fingers with his gloved ones. At his touch, a whole slew of butterflies began to flutter around Jadzia’s stomach. _Trust me._

“And I don’t want you thinking last night didn’t mean anything,” Claude said, tender now. He gave her hand an emphatic squeeze. “At least to me anyway.” 

Footsteps on the cobblestones echoed throughout the courtyard. Jadzia and Claude dropped hands instantly, just as a few foot soldiers rounded the corner hauling supplies from the marketplace. The soldiers waved and Claude nodded to them in greeting. But Jadzia kept her eyes down and kicked at the ground, nudging a pebble around with her toe. 

Even though Claude’s words were a relief, Jadzia was still nervous. Realizing she was nervous only made her more nervous – because the anxiety made no sense to her. He had fought side-by-side with her on the battlefield. He had relished in all her nakedness. He had stood by her, a reassuring hand on her shoulder, while tears rolled down her face at Jeralt’s burial. What was there left that he hadn’t seen? What did she have left to hide? That exposure - brutally honest and intensely intimate – unsettled her very foundation. It was not something she would ever have sought out, but somehow with Claude, the vulnerability was almost… welcome.

“So are you sticking with your story? Last night never happened as far as you're concerned?” Claude asked, his gentle voice now tinted with a teasing edge.

“That was never really my story,” she admitted once the soldiers were out of sight. Jadzia warily glanced up at him, only to find him gazing back. Claude smiled that boyish half-smile of his, and any uncertainty she might have had melted. More than any pauldrons or greaves he wore in battle, that smile was his armor. From the moment they met she could tell when he used his smile to deflect, to deceive. To hide. His emerald eyes hid nothing now.

Jadzia could feel the blush rising in her cheeks, the fervor of his gaze leaving her flustered. Though she was nearly breathless, she had to speak her mind before this foolish boy stole all her words from her. She cleared her throat, and tried to stand a little straighter.

“Be that as it may,” she began, leaning into her professorial voice to steady herself, “you have been acting strangely all through practice. I’ve positioned you during exercises countless times before. We can’t have you turning to stone every time I give you an instruction.”

Claude’s grin turned sheepish as he carded his fingers through his hair. “OK, you got me there. I can get a hold of myself better next time. I’m sorry about that, I must’ve looked like a jerk. But I assure you my behavior was merely an attempt at self-preservation. Teach, when you smiled at me when I walked in today… I mean I nearly lost it. So yeah, I couldn’t look you in the eye. It’s not fair when you’re singling me out, placing your hand on my chest, moving my hips. Not when I know what those hands can do now.” Now he was all impish daring and bravado. He stole a glance around the courtyard to check for any prying eyes, and leaned in close to her. Goosebumps prickled down Jadzia’s neck as his hot breath tickled her ear.

“All I’ve been able to think about today is how next time, I’m going to find out what you taste like,’” he confessed in a whisper. “All of you.”

Jadzia let a delicious shiver roll down her shoulders. He was so close she could feel warmth radiating off him, could catch his intoxicating scent in the cold air. She was easily caught in his orbit, and she unconsciously leaned into him, her every sense flooded with him.

“Next time?” she heard herself breathe.

Claude snorted. “You thought last night was it?” Jadzia could hear the sly grin in his voice. “Teach, I’ve got so much more in store for you.”

Before she could reply, he had taken her hand again, tugging her gently toward the construction scaffold along the wall of the courtyard with an inviting nod. She followed him tentatively, throwing furtive glances all about to make sure no one was watching. But when Claude pushed aside the hanging tarp and pulled her into a private embrace, Jadzia let all her reservations drop. He pressed her up against the wall, his lips fervent and ravenous. She felt a rush of heat washing over her despite the winter cold and encircled his waist with her arms, drawing him to her. The five minutes of Alois’ break were probably up, but Claude held time suspended as he cradled her neck, stealing kisses in a stolen moment. Jadzia couldn’t get enough, but all too soon he pulled away.

“So,” Claude said casually, his breath forming clouds in the crisp air, “when can I see you again?”

His kisses had left her feeling playful and cheeky. “Probably at lunch, with the others in the dining hall,” Jadzia replied. “And then after, we’ve been meaning to speak with the blacksmith to negotiate some fairer prices. And then later-”

“You know what I mean,” Claude insisted, placing his firebrand lips on her neck. With his tongue pulsing hotly on her skin, she knew exactly what he meant. Jadzia wanted to say now, wanted him to rip off his gloves and slip a hand down the front of her clothes. The depth of her wanting startled as much as it intrigued her. She was supposed to be leading a training exercise right now, not cooing under incredibly distracting caresses.

“Tomorrow night,” she said as she reluctantly pushed him away. “You’ll be sore from practice, and we both need to catch up on sleep.” She paused, letting a smirk spread across her face, “Not to mention I’ll need you to be fresh.”

“Tomorrow night,” Claude agreed with a grin. “Your room?”

Jadzia raised an eyebrow at him, “Of course, my room. I’m not sneaking past the doors of every noble on our campaign just to be with you, Claude.”

He leaned into her again, charm coating his voice as he teased her, “And since you have no neighbors flanking your quarters, you can be as loud as you want…”

“Assuming I’m _moved_ to such volume, then yes, that would be convenient,” she said, shouldering past him.

“Is that a challenge?” Claude asked. He let her step by him, but still held her hand. He wasn’t ready to let go of her yet.

“Didn’t you just say you have ‘so much more in store for me’?” she taunted.

“I’m nothing if not a man of my word, Teach,” Claude replied with his crooked smile, hand to his heart.

She knew he was. When she’d fallen five years ago, Jadzia had left behind a student, a prankster of a boy with mountains of potential, and she came back to a battle-tested leader – all chiseled jawline and broad shoulders – who had waited for her. She would never forget rounding the crumbling steps of the Goddess Tower, unsteady and out of time, to find that Claude had kept his promise to meet her. Even if this new chapter of their relationship ended up being brief, she would never forget that day. 

She didn’t say any of that to him now. Instead, Jadzia just kissed him. Perhaps it was the kiss she should’ve given him months ago, when she had walked into the light and he’d given her a smile brighter than the dawn. But it was an honest kiss, grateful and sweet, and nowhere near their last.

“Are you coming back to practice?” she asked, still in his arms.

“I’ll be along in a minute, probably shouldn’t leave here together.”

“And if anyone asks, we were inspecting construction progress, right?”

“You read my mind, Teach,” Claude said with a wink.

Jadzia gave him a bashful smile before turning to leave. He couldn’t help but watch her go, marveling at how her ample hips swayed even under the bulky fabric of her cloak. She ducked under the tarp, back into the courtyard. Claude shook his head as she left, her rich scent – all new growth and fresh rain – still lingering in the air. With his anticipation for tomorrow already mounting, he couldn’t possibly get any sleep tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After confessing that – yes – these friends definitely wanted to cash in on more benefits, Claude and Jadzia run into each other in the dining hall on the night of their appointed tryst. An outburst from Catherine and an impromptu request from Sylvain threaten to derail the evening, but Claude barely keeps it together despite his antici... pation.

_The following evening..._

“What are you planning to do with these new incoming troops?”

Catherine plunked down in the empty seat next to Claude, a tankard of ale in one hand and a half-eaten pheasant leg in the other. Across the table, Sylvain shrugged his shoulders and gave Claude an easy smile, unfazed by the interruption.

“Good evening, Catherine,” Claude said, greeting the Holy Knight cheerily despite her abrasive manner. “Funny thing, Sylvain and I were just discussing how-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Cut the crap,” Catherine said, brisk as ever. She sucked on the pheasant bone as she spoke. “I asked you a question. In a week we meet up with Daphnel’s troops and get a big influx of fresh blood around here. What do you intend to do with them?” 

“The rendezvous is actually in a week and a day,” Sylvain offered. Catherine squinted her eyes at the redhead and pointed at him with the bone.

“Shut it, pretty boy, before I shut it for you.” Sylvain held his hands up in surrender and tucked into his meal again, avoiding Catherine’s eyes. Catherine turned back to Claude.

“As you were saying,” she prompted him.

“Look, Catherine, Judith hasn’t even given us a firm number on how many troops she’s sending us yet. It could be 20, it could be 100,” Claude explained. “That’s going to change what we’re able to do, not to mention what we’ll need. If we get a smaller amount of new troops, I’m looking to open up communication with Dimitri again. Maybe with Teach back he’ll be more open to an alliance. But then if Judith sends a larger force, we’re going to need to focus on supply lines first just to feed all of us, which will mean striking at trade routes… but by the way you’re looking at me, I assume you already have a suggestion.”

“You always were perceptive, Claude, I’ll give you that,” Catherine said. “But yes, I do have an idea. Even if House Daphnel arrives with only a dozen fighters, that should be more than enough to replace me and a small, elite team that I can lead to infiltrate the Empire and find Lady Rhea.”

“Catherine-”

“It would be me and Shamir, of course. But I’m also thinking Leonie, Ingrid, Lysithea, and Caspar since he’ll probably know the terrain and can actually handle himself in a fight,” she continued.

“Well, damn Catherine, why not just take more of our elites with you,” Claude said as he threw his hands up in the air. “I mean you’ll need more healers, so take Flayn. Dorothea knows Enbarr better than any of us, so you’ll want her to go too-”

“And if you’re taking all those lovely ladies, I should probably tagalong too,” Sylvain cut in.

“Shut it, Sylvain,” Claude and Catherine said in unison.

“By your tone I take it you’re being sarcastic,” Catherine said, eyes narrowed at Claude.

“Have you met him?” Hilda snickered under her breath, on Claude’s other side.

“Hilda, you’re not helping,” Claude said out the corner of his mouth. To Catherine, he said, “I admire your courage, but that kind of mission is just not worth the risk right now. Edelgard has had five years to grow and fortify the Empire. Our resistance has been up and running for less than two months. We can’t go rushing into Enbarr right now and expect to make it out alive.”

“Maybe ‘we’ can’t, but I can,” Catherine insisted.

“Not with my fighters you aren’t,” Claude countered.

“Then I will find others. I’ll take villagers, I’ll strap a crossbow to a scarecrow if I have to. But I’m going. You might lead the Alliance, but I don’t report to you,” Catherine replied. “In case you forgot, I’m a Holy Knight. I come to you now as a matter of courtesy, but I go where the Church tells me. And the Church’s priority is finding Lady Rhea. We’ve wasted enough time. I’m finding Lady Rhea no matter what.”

“So you go where the Church tells you.”

“I don’t like repeating myself, Claude,” Catherine growled.

“And remind me, who’s leading the Church these days? The one Rhea named as her successor?”

“The professor,” Catherine replied, sipping her ale. “And it’s _Lady_ Rhea to you.”

“Well if you want to find _Lady_ Rhea, and if you want to do it with supplies, fighters, and the Church’s blessing, you know who to ask,” Claude said, growing frustrated. “Though don’t expect a dramatically different response.”

“You got it, pal,” Catherine said, although her tone suggested no kind of kinship. “Why don’t we ask her now?” The knight pointed with her chin toward the serving line at the head of the dining hall.

Claude followed Catherine’s line of sight to find Jadzia, laughing at some unheard joke as a cook ladled berry sauce on her plate. From this distance, he couldn’t hear the joke, couldn’t even hear Jadzia’s laugh. But he didn’t need to hear it to know that she sounded like a brook cascading down a mountainside, bright and clear. She looked radiant, but then she always did. Only half the chandeliers had candles – all that could be afforded these days – but still Jadzia’s hair glittered in the flickering light. Claude’s momentary frustration fell away as Jadzia filled his focus. Ever since their stolen kiss yesterday morning, Claude had been counting down the hours until their next tryst. With the sun now setting, Claude was counting minutes.

Jadzia turned toward the dining tables. Allies greeted her from their seats, beckoning her to join them. Jadzia smiled obligingly at them all, but her eyes cast about, searching. Catherine raised her tankard and hailed Jadzia. At the sound, the professor whipped around. Her eyes lit up when she met Claude’s, having found what she was looking for. Claude felt warmth course through him when he caught her smile, a smile for him. He had to take a swig from his own pint of ale to keep from beaming back like an idiot.

“Hey,” Jadzia said as she approached, eyes only for Claude. 

“Hey yourself,” he replied, wishing he could say more. The table erupted in a chorus of hearty greetings. Jadzia looked up at all the others, her smile broadening in surprise, as if she only just realized they were there.

“Professor,” Catherine said cheerfully. “Help me settle something here. You think finding Lady Rhea is a top priority, right?”

To Jadzia’s credit, the professor didn’t even blink at Catherine’s non sequitur. Still standing behind Claude’s chair, as every seat was full at the table, Jadzia replied, “Of course, Catherine. We just had a report from the search party following the rumor of a green-haired woman spotted in the Sreng region…”

“We all know she’s not in the Sreng region,” Catherine declared. “Professor, I have a plan. Send me into the Empire with a handful of fighters – I only need about six or seven. We’ll bust in, extract the archbishop, and be back here by the next moon. I guarantee it.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “The only guarantee you can make is that we’ll lose six or seven fighters.” Catherine shot him a look, a sharp retort at the ready.

“It certainly is a bold strategy, Catherine,” Jadzia noted.

“Bold! See, she thinks it’s bold!” Catherine boasted.

“However, Claude has a point. We can’t risk losing that many fighters right now, even with reinforcements coming. We’re operating on very thin ice here-”

Catherine stood so roughly she knocked her chair over.

“Where would you be right now if it weren’t for Lady Rhea? Huh?” Catherine shouted. “I’ll tell ya, just another backwater merc scraping by. She made you a professor. She gave you an army. She gave you a purpose. Don’t you think you owe her?”

The dining hall went silent at the commotion.

Claude watched as Jadzia’s brows knit, her lips tightening in a determined frown.

“I owe Rhea my very life,” Jadzia said, holding Catherine’s glare. “Which is why we can’t afford a rescue operation right now.”

“What in blazes is that supposed to mean?”

“Look around you Catherine. We might have watered down ale, we might eat more game than meat these days. But we’re fortified enough that most nights we can sleep soundly. Make no mistake, Fódlan is burning. Edelgard has razed whole towns. Erased whole noble houses. Rhea was taken from a battlefield trying to stop the Empire. She would chastise us, no she would disavow us for using resources to rescue her when we could be helping people and restoring order. We cannot go after Rhea until we’ve done all we can to stop Edelgard, as Rhea would do herself.”

Catherine fumed, not yet ready to admit defeat. “So you’re just going to leave her to rot? To die, alone?”

“Nobody’s saying that,” Claude said emphatically.

“She’s made of stronger stuff, Catherine,” Jadzia offered, softer now. “This is Rhea we’re talking about. You have to have faith.”

Catherine glanced from Jadzia to Claude, clenching and unclenching her sword hand. With a scowl she turned to leave. But before letting the knight go, Jadzia put a hand on her shoulder.

“There’s no one who wants to find Rhea more than me, Catherine, believe me,” Jadzia said in a low voice. “Rhea is the closest I have to family these days, and I have a lot of questions for her. When we find her – and we will find her – we need to ensure that her captors pay for what they have done. And for that we need to bide our time and build up our strength.” 

Catherine set her jaw, shifting uneasily on her feet before she finally nodded in curt agreement.

“I understand. I don’t like it. But for now I guess I’ll have to trust your judgement,” Catherine said tersely. “Now if you’ll all excuse me, I have the sudden urge to hit something.”

Catherine stalked off, causing the rest of the dining hall to spring into fervid murmurs. Jadzia watched the knight leave, as Claude righted the chair Catherine had tipped. Jadzia was still standing, her knuckles white as she gripped her tray of food.

“Come and take a load off. Your dinner’s getting cold,” Claude said as he gingerly took her tray and set it on the table. Jadzia gave him a look mixed with relief and thanks before sitting heavily in the ornate mahogany chair.

“You might be the only person I know who can stand up to Thunder Catherine and live,” Sylvain remarked. “She nearly murdered me just for breathing.”

“Sylvain, I’m sure there have been many women in your life who had to fight that compulsion,” Claude bantered. Sylvain laughed goodnaturedly.

Claude turned to Jadzia, concern lacing his voice, “Sorry to drag you into that. You alright?”

"I should have seen that coming," Jadzia muttered so that only Claude could hear. "Catherine's not the only one who feels that way about saving Rhea, just the only one with the guts to voice her opinion."

"I know. We'll have to keep an eye out. It's just the kind of wedge that could cause our coalition to splinter. But I didn't ask about the implications to our cause. I asked if you're alright."

Jadzia sighed and smiled wanly at him. Instinctively, she reached out to touch his hand, but pulled back to grab her water glass instead. Too many eyes around.

"I'm fine," she said into her cup before taking a drink. With a slight grin, she murmured, "Though, I expect I will feel much better soon." 

Claude rubbed his face, trying to wipe away the smirk that was forming. Everyone knew Jadzia was clever, they staked their whole campaign on her intellect and skill. But this saucier wit of hers was new to Claude. He adored it.

And – _damn it all_ – if it wasn't thrilling to know that she was as eager as him for tonight.

“Professor, maybe you can help me with something…” Sylvain started.

“I’m not covering your duty shifts again,” Jadzia said, not looking up from her plate.

“No, no, it’s not that,” Sylvain chuckled. “But really, not ever? What about on my birthday?”

Jadzia gave him a tired glare.

“Alright, I get it! But more seriously, I do need your help. Claude listens to you. So maybe you can convince him.”

“Sylvain,” Claude cut in, “I already told you-”

Sylvain barrelled onward, “Tonight is our dear Felix’s birthday. Because I am a good friend, I devised a whole evening of entertainment in his honor. Cake, drinking, games, manly feats of strength, the works. I even got dates with three beautiful sisters. One each for him, me, and Lorenz. It’s going to be an incredible time.”

“That sounds like Felix’s worst nightmare,” Jadzia observed.

“Uh, well, that’s just it. You see he, um, doesn’t want to go…”

“So it’s cancelled? What am I supposed to convince Claude of?”

“Cancelled? Of course it’s not cancelled. Do you know how much effort I put into planning this? I rarely put this much effort into anything. Not going to waste it. Lorenz and I agreed we’re still going, but we need a third because, well, sisters.”

“Do you see what I have had to deal with?” Claude said, appealing to Jadzia.

“C’mon Claude, you never go out with us,” Sylvain pleaded. “What’s that they say about all work and no play?”

“Makes Claude a dull boy,” Hilda chimed in.

“Thank you, Hilda,” Sylvain said.

Claude pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “I told you, I’ve got too much work to do.”

“Yeah, definitely proving the ‘dull boy’ point…”

“You never go out with them?” Jadzia asked, genuinely curious.

Claude paused, her question far from the reaction he was expecting.

“Uh no,” he mumbled, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s always a new report to review, or something I have to research.”

“Do you see what I’m talking about, Professor?” Sylvain complained. “Even if he did give himself a break, Claude’s idea of a rowsing night is tea, a book, and maybe a thrilling game of Settlers of Dagda. Where’s the guy who used to sneak out of the Academy when we were kids, looking for trouble?”

“I would go out looking for potion ingredients. It’s not my fault that trouble sometimes ran into me,” Claude retorted. “And you’re just mad because I always beat you in Settlers of Dagda.”

“That’s only because you cheat!”

“Understanding probabilities is not cheating-”

“Professor can you pass that pitcher?” Hilda piped up. “Watching boys squabble makes me thirsty.”

“We’re not squabbling, we’re _discussing_ ,” Sylvain articulated.

Claude opened his mouth to reply, but Jadzia cut him off.

“As much as I hate to admit it, Claude, Sylvain does have a point,” Jadzia said loftily. “You’ll be no use to anyone if you’re exhausted. You should really find some way to relax.”

Casually, Jadzia crossed her legs and took another bite of her food. But under the table, Claude could feel her foot rub up against him, playful and persistent. Claude’s heart raced as a blush started to form on his cheek. How could she do something so brazen, and yet still be so calm? All day, he thought he would burst with impatience and desire. Her provocation only made him want her more. Claude narrowed his eyes at her. Jadzia simply shrugged.

“You’re one to talk, Teach,” Claude remarked, already envisioning the many, many things he was going to do to her. “You’ve been known to burn the midnight oil too.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hey Professor, maybe you should come with us,” Sylvain suggested. “Take a load off and come have fun. We’ll leave stick-in-the-mud-Claude behind, what do you say?”

“You told me it was a boys’ night,” Hilda complained.

“The professor is basically one of the boys; she was raised by mercenaries. Can you arm wrestle, debate weapon classes, and hold your liquor? C’mon, professor, I bet you’re the best wingman in the whole monastery.”

Jadzia let out a deep and hearty laugh, the sound spilling out over the din of the dining hall. Sylvain and Hilda found themselves chuckling too, surprised by the professor’s rare outburst. Claude was transfixed, his playful smile turning wolfish.

“I’m sorry,” Jadzia said, dabbing her eyes with a napkin. “We’re the _same age_ Sylvain, and you still call me ‘professor’ to invite me out for a night of carousing. You have to admit, it’s a little ironic.”

“Yeah, but if I called you by your first name it’d only be easier to fall in love with you,” the redhead said with his devilish, fawning smile. “So are you in?”

Jadzia peeked at Claude, a glimmer in her eye. For a moment, he nearly believed she would take Sylvain up on the offer.

“No, I’m afraid I’m as boring as Claude,” she finally said. “Hanneman was interrogating me all afternoon about my Crest and frankly all his prodding is _exhausting_. Between him and Catherine, I need a break from… people.”

“Ooh, yuck. Yeah, I get that,” Sylvain sympathized. He stood abruptly. “Damn, I need to catch Caspar before he leaves. Maybe he’ll come.”

“Wait!” Hilda rushed after him. “I’m coming too, no matter what you say!”

“Professor!” Sylvain called over his shoulder. “Next time, you’re joining us!”

Jadzia rolled her eyes and returned to her plate.

For the moment, she and Claude were relatively alone, with all the other diners a couple empty chairs away. Claude bit into a buttered roll, stealing sidelong glances at her. If he wasn’t so charmed by her he might have been annoyed, furious even, that she could both tease him and entice him so easily.

“What?” Jadzia asked him with a little laugh. Claude shook his head with a bemused expression on his face.

“You’re incorrigible,” he said sardonically. She laughed, louder this time, her laugh always easier when he was around.

“That’s like something a maiden in some fairy tale would say,” she replied.

“The chosen of the Goddess is making a pass at me under the table. That doesn’t sound like a fairy tale to you?”

Jadzia kicked his shin, not hard, but none too gently either. Claude bit his lip as he grinned at her.

“I’ll get you back for that,” he all but growled.

“I’m counting on it,” she replied. She patted her lips daintily with a napkin and stood to leave. As she passed behind his chair, she laid her hand lightly upon his shoulder.

“Fifteen minutes,” she said, her voice low so that only he could hear.

A thrill raced down his spine. Claude fought every impulse to snatch her hand and pull her into his lap right then and there. Fifteen minutes, so soon. And yet the way the blood was pounding in his ears, fifteen minutes was still an eternity of heartbeats away.

Jadzia retreated through one of the exits. Claude could hear her bidding good night to other allies as she left – like she always did, like a normal monastery evening.

Claude was used to secrets. He was born one, spent his whole life wrapped up in them. Secrets were the currency that bankrolled his, and his family’s, ambition. But his secrets were always life or death, if not for him specifically for someone else definitely. He’d never had a secret that was quite this....

Delicious.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude, giddy and confident, is about to meet Jadzia for a much anticipated tryst when some news gives him a sudden reality check.

Claude picked at the last of his meal, too restrained to dash after Jadzia, and too anticipant to focus on anything else but her. He needed to walk. He needed to move. He needed to distract his brain before these last fifteen minutes began to feel like fifteen hours. 

With a sigh, Claude pushed away his plate and stepped outside, letting his thoughts drift along the wintry wind. His boots crunched in the snow, the icy dusting from the afternoon’s storm covering the monastery in a blanket of white. High in the sky, a crescent moon was tucked away behind wisps of clouds, bathing the ground in the faintest glow. The waning moon meant the approach of a new month, new beginnings and new challenges. Claude smiled to himself. How much easier new challenges seemed if he could expect more nights like this one, evenings that began with a quiet walk to a welcoming door, and ended in heavy sighs and tangled sheets.

His wandering feet brought him to the Golden Deer classroom, with several minutes still to kill before his appointed arrival at Jadzia’s. An owl hooted at him condescendingly from a perch by the door, ruffling its feathers and shifting from one clawed foot to the other. Claude let an exasperated huff escape his lips. He had told Sylvain he had work to do. At least now that wouldn’t be a total lie.

While Claude opened the door, the owl impatiently clacked its beak.

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Claude muttered as the door swung open. The owl silently glided into the classroom. Claude lost track of it in the dark as he made his way to the fireplace to stoke up the embers. As he set a new log on the fire, Claude felt sharp talons land on his shoulder and a beak tugging at his earring.

“Gah!” Claude shouted in surprise, waving his arms to shoo the owl away. It landed unceremoniously on a nearby table with a little screech. By the firelight, Claude could see the message tied to the owl’s leg. Digging into his pocket, Claude found a piece of jerky and offered it to the owl before undoing the jesses. Between messenger owls and Raphael’s appetite, Claude always knew to keep some snacks on hand – or risk losing a hand.

Once Claude retrieved the letter, the owl gulped down its prize and flew out through the classroom door, still ajar. Unrolling the letter, Claude could feel his jaw tighten as he recognized the flowing script.

_Hello boy._

_Good news, everything is in place for House Daphnel’s forces to join you and your little professor. I’ve been able to gather 100 of our best soldiers for the endeavor. Well, 101 if you count yours truly. I’ve found a trustworthy regent for my lands, so now I can join you myself. Isn’t that fun?_

_Thought it’d be good to write ahead and inform you of the plans. Won’t it be grand to have so much time together in the same location again? Though we’re bringing a fair amount of supplies, personally I’m packing light for this journey, seeing as I won’t need clothes much around you. Let’s forget our little quarrel, shall we? I know you didn’t mean it. You never really have before, at least not without some encouragement. As always, I’m willing to be the bigger person and forgive you. Just make sure you have some silk scarves on hand for my arrival – although as you well know, a belt will do in a pinch._

_Sweet dreams, boy. I expect to be in them._

_Judith_

Claude had hardly finished the letter before he tossed it onto the fire. The way the flames blackened and devoured the words did little to unclench the unease building in his gut. He should have expected this, should have planned for this. Of course Judith didn’t listen. She never did, unless it suited her or he said something she wanted to hear. How many times had he shouted, ranted, and railed at her, insisting for _the last time_ that this was over, only to find himself in her clutches again a few weeks or a few days later?

He needed something to calm his nerves. He scanned about the dark classroom, the fire throwing strange shadows across the familiar tables and benches. Had it really only been two days since he had kissed Jadzia, right here, amidst all the plans for their future and the memories of their past? Claude shook his head in frustration, running his fingers through his hair. His eyes landed on a copper tea kettle, black with soot. The kettle still had some water, so he briskly hung it over the fire. As he waited for the water to boil, Claude paced back and forth in the flickering light to take stock of the situation.

First, he needed to tell Jadzia. Not only the news about Daphnel’s forces, but also his history with Judith. Claude sucked in a sharp breath at the thought. He should have told Jadzia sooner. It would have been easier if he had done it weeks ago, back when the allies asked him to petition Judith for supplies and support. But he hadn’t, maybe because he knew in opening up to Jadzia about Judith – about the debt he paid with his body, about how he always wanted to say ‘no’ right up until the moment he said ‘yes’ – he would close the door on any sort of relationship with the Goddess-touched woman he truly wanted. 

Claude glanced up at the clock. Five minutes until Jadzia expected him. How could he tell her on a night like tonight? It had been more than three moons since his last liaison with the Hero of Daphnel, the longest he’d gone without crawling back to her. He really had meant it when he’d cut things off with Judith that time. Isn’t that enough? What explanation did he owe Jadzia, as his ally, as his friend, as his…?

Eventually the kettle began to whistle, cutting through Claude’s contemplation. He went to what had been Jadzia’s desk at the head of the room, where they now kept tea supplies. He found a mostly clean teapot and a mug, and retrieved the new tin of Almyran Pine Needle tea that he had just bought the day before. The smell and taste of home always restored him. He’d know what to do after a cuppa. 

He popped open the tin and shook a smattering of tea into the teapot before pouring over the boiling water. The simple steps and the aroma were already quieting his nerves. As he waited for the tea to steep, Claude glanced over at the lid of his tea canister. Folded under the lip of the lid was a piece of paper with a commanding letter K upon it.

Claude’s stomach plummeted. Judith’s message was a mild inconvenience compared to whatever this note contained.

_Son-_

_We trust this missive finds you in good health and that you walk the path laid by warriors who have gone before us._

_Already, we have heard of your return to and defense of the heathen monastery. It is a sound strategic location, and we commend your deployment of fire against the larger Adrestian force. Ha! Our ancestors roared with the flames that day!_

_However, we have heard that you insist on fighting under some obscure banner, rather than your own. We question the efficacy of this strategy. If you intend to unite Fódlan under our rule, should the people not know you? Should they not fear and respect you not only by your deeds, but by your sign? Why do you not position yourself at the helm? You should be both the anvil and the anchor of this conquest, that you may galvanize this land so devoid of any courage._

_We fear you grow soft after so many years among these lowlanders. Though the Leceister lands are under your sway, Faerghus is ripe for the taking. All reports agree that the former kingdom is in disarray. Why have you not conquered these pale lords in their crumbling halls? Is this not why you called Nader to your aid? Where is your will to strike?_

_Although there is much to laud with your progress (not least of which being how you have maintained your cover), there is much to discuss as well. We apologize for the means through which you have received our words. We hope we have not ruined your appetite for the tastes of home. However, this method of communication is safer – if slower – than sending an owl that can too easily be intercepted. The merchant Thibault is a trusted member of the Guild. His wife is one of our own. We await your reply through this secure channel._

_May the ancestors continue to protect you, that you may soon be delivered home in victory._

_Your Father_

Unlike with Judith’s letter, Claude did not instantly fling this one into the fire. He read it over and over, taking in the praise and the criticism so typical of exchanges with his father. Clearly his father had better intelligence in Fódlan than Claude realized – and Garreg Mach had more security issues than he realized too. Perhaps most unsettling, Claude was certain his mother contributed to the letter’s contents as well. He could practically hear her spit out _“Where is your will to strike?”_

They didn’t understand, had barely understood enough to allow him to make the journey when his mother’s brother had died six years ago and the seeds of his scheme had first been planted. Claude had no intention of conquering anywhere or anyone. He had seen the consequences of the prolonged aggression between the Alliance and Almyra. He had seen the good on both sides of Fódlan’s Throat. His goal was never about conquest – though fierce words were the only ones his parents seemed to understand. Claude’s aim was for unification. And for that he needed time. He needed resources, from both Fódlan and Almyra, although neither side knew the full extent of the other’s involvement. And most importantly, he needed Jadzia.

At long last, he threw his father’s letter in the fire as well, leaving no evidence. The flames backlit the big K to whom the letter was addressed before the fire devoured that as well. Claude turned away. Here, today, he was Claude. The master technician, the leader of the Golden Deer, the one Jadzia was waiting for.

He glanced at the clock again. _Shit._ He was late. He quickly downed the tea, only scalding himself a little before rushing out the door.

Out in the cold, his mind blazed through several scenarios on how to tell Jadzia, even what to tell Jadzia. Where to even start. Too soon he was at her door, light spilling out under the crack at the floor. Claude closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think this was just going to be a fluffy, smutty jaunt around Garreg Mach? So did I! Looks like we have some plot, folks. Please keep all hands and feet on the wyvern at all times, this may be a bumpy ride.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude endeavors to tell Jadzia about his past, but is too caught up in the glory of her to tell the truth. When an unexpected visitor comes to the door, both Jadzia and Claude try to navigate what it means to be sleeping with your best friend in the middle of a war.

Out in the cold, his mind blazed through several scenarios on how to tell Jadzia, even what to tell Jadzia. Where to even start. Too soon he was at her door, light spilling out under the crack at the floor. Claude closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his mind racing.

_I used to be involved with Judith._ Too vague. _Judith and I… we used to fuck._ Too crass. _I used a sexual relationship with Judith for political gain, but came to regret it and have had a difficult time disentangling myself because to be honest these past few years have been really stressful and sometimes you just need a release and oh no, Teach, please please please don’t do that thing where your forehead wrinkles when you’re disappointed…_ Too desperate.

The door swung open before Claude could even knock. He looked up with surprise, ready to lay out his secret, his omission. But the doorway was empty. Claude stepped inside tentatively, old instincts causing him to look for signs of intruders. It was a small room, but Jadzia was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a few candles cast their glow, adding a warmth that made the room dance with light. Softly, he heard the door shut behind him. Despite his nerves, Claude couldn’t help but smile.

“I didn’t realize you were one for theatrics-” he began as he turned toward the sound.

Claude’s breath caught at the sight of her. Jadzia leaned nonchalantly against the door, arms crossed. She wore naught but her fitted shorts and leather bodice, everyday pieces he’d seen her wear to battle or to kitchen duty. To Claude, nothing else quite captured Jadzia’s casual, effortless sensuality more, and yet he craved to release her from every last stitch of her clothes like wrapping on a present. Seeing her bathed in candlelight, her fair skin incandescent, Claude found himself drinking in the way those shorts _just_ seemed to cover the contour of her bottom, only to give way to the sculpted shape of her thighs, thick and tantalizing. His eyes were drawn to the plunging neckline of her bodice, usually obscured by her pendant, now revealing the cleavage he had so desperately tried not to call to mind all day. But most breathtaking of all was to see her eyes raking across him just as voraciously. Distantly, Claude remembered that he needed to tell her something, something he worried might change the look in her eye.

“Teach-” Claude began, but the heat of her lips on his seared away any rational thoughts that he might have clung to. Her long fingers combing through his hair chased out his lingering anxieties, while her body – with all its delicacies that he wanted to explore – pressed up against him to set his mind reeling. As Claude wrapped his arms around her and felt her tongue slip into his mouth, he found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than this kiss that threatened to undo him.

“You’re late,” Jadzia whispered, tugging loose his cravat only to sink her teeth into tiny bites along his neck. Claude let out a little grunt of pleasure, reveling in her touch.

“If I’d known how warm the welcome would be, I’d have been here sooner,” Claude replied, her teasing kisses sharpening his wit.

“You knew what awaited you. It’s not as if I invited you here to tea,” she said. Claude readied a retort, but her mouth was on his again, hungrier now, an urgency building. 

There was something he was supposed to tell her. It was right there on the tip of his tongue, but his tongue was far too busy to be articulate. Claude knew it was important, knew that he would regret forgetting. But as she led him to her bed, Claude reasoned to himself that nothing could possibly be more important than the sway of her hips or the way her eyes glinted with a daring sort of promise. He removed his gloves, letting them fall to the floor so his hands could begin the delicate task of unlacing her bodice.

Jadzia sat him down on the bed, allowing herself a small thrill when she caught his mischievous smile, his gaze devouring her as he slid his boots off. She climbed into his lap, kissing the smirk off his face, though her own grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. Claude made it so easy to want him, with that delectable caramel skin and those cheekbones sharp enough to rival her own blade. But more than his rippling shoulders underneath the coat that she hastily tossed aside, or his hands that deliberately and deliciously undressed her, Jadzia wanted the part of Claude that could make her forget anything else existed. Day to day at the monastery, there were too many questions she didn’t have answers to: How much food does an army need? Where can we source new weapons? Why haven’t you rescued Rhea yet? It was easy to lose track of who ‘Jadzia’ even was under the weight of questions. Being with Claude reminded her that there was more to her than just the professor. And she was done being the professor today.

She could feel the stays of her bodice loosening, Claude’s hands more sure than their first time. Imagining those hands, at once tender and sturdy, had been her saving grace while Hanneman peppered her with questions about her powers and her Crest all afternoon. Jadzia suspected Claude could draw more from her with his slightest touch than the most grueling interrogation.

And it seemed Claude was doing everything in his power to prove her right. As he pulled her bodice away, Claude unhurriedly nuzzled between her breasts, his beard tickling as goosebumps sprang across her chest. With a wicked rush, Jadzia realized she could already feel a bulge growing beneath her as she straddled his lap.

“I’ve been thinking about this the whole damn day,” Claude said with a sigh. He let his hands glide down her back, settling into the sweeping curve of her waist. Jadzia closed her eyes, luxuriating in the feeling of his touch on her skin. 

“Me too,” Jadzia said breathlessly as Claude delicately placed kisses along the pillowy arc of her breasts. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look for you all day, maybe to get to this moment sooner. Where were you?”

Claude couldn’t help but laugh, deep and heartily; the irony of the two of them waiting when neither wanted to was just too rich. Jadzia gave him a questioning look. He cupped her face with his hands and kissed her sweetly on the lips before explaining.

“How I wish I would have known that bit of insight,” he said, gifting Jadzia with his foxiest grin. “Where was I? I couldn’t imagine trying to talk rationally with you about supplies and logistics over at the old Golden Deer all day. So I buried myself under a pile of books in the Shadow Library. Abyss was the furthest away I could get. If I had you alone, to myself, in that classroom… Teach, I would’ve taken you right on my old desk.”

His words, so raw and assertive, lit a fuse to something that Jadzia had been holding back all day. She planted a luscious kiss on his mouth that turned from sweet to saucy as he began to playfully nip at her lips. Greedily, she unbuttoned his shirt, her nose nuzzling against his. Claude took a breathless moment just to marvel at her, to inhale the lush scent of her and bask in her ardor.

He didn't have much more than a moment though, as she traced her scorching fingers down his bare chest, reaching to untie his sash. Jadzia met his eye, a knowing smile on those kissable lips. If Claude had any shred of misgivings left, they flew away on the wings of her smile. As she pushed back on his shoulders, pinning him to the bed, he found that he was helpless to resist. She whipped his sash off with a flourish, letting it drift to the floor, reaching next to unbutton his fly. Claude bit his lip, his eyes watching her every move as she slipped her hands under his waistband, when there was a knock at the door.

Jadzia froze, suddenly on high alert. The air in the room, once rich with sultry anticipation, rapidly morphed into a stifling tension.

“Were you followed?” she asked Claude in a heated whisper.

“No, of course not,” Claude replied, his voice just as low. He propped himself up on his elbows. “Were you expecting someone else?”

Jadzia shook her head. The knock came again, accompanied by a voice this time.

“Jadzia, you there? You’re lights are on. If you’ve fallen asleep with the candles lit, I may just have to break in to blow them out. You know, fire hazard and all…”

Recognizing the voice, Claude raised his eyebrows in surprise while Jadzia succumbed to a deep blush.

_“Yuri?”_ Claude mouthed. Jadzia nodded, exasperated as she rubbed her temples. Yuri knocked again, testing the handle this time. At the sound, Jadzia shifted off of Claude, and planted her feet on the floor. Claude grabbed her arm.

“You’re not answering that door, are you?” he hissed.

“If I don’t, he’ll pick the lock,” Jadzia whispered back. She rolled her eyes and added, “He’s done it before.”

_“Before?!”_

“Shh,” Jadzia murmured. “Just… hide, ok? I’ll get rid of him. It’ll only take a moment.” Claude gave her a pleading look, but when her reply was only a bewildered shrug, Claude eventually complied. Jadzia rose and grabbed her cloak that hung on a peg on the wall. 

Claude cast about the room. Jadzia’s sparse quarters didn’t leave many hiding places. As Jadzia threw her cloak over her bare shoulders, Claude gathered up his jacket, shirt, and boots, and dove under the bed. Indignant, but fiercely curious, Claude scooched into the shadows, listening intently as Jadzia sighed and opened the door.

Jadzia clutched her cloak tightly across her body, only opening the door enough to peek her head through. 

“Ah! There she is,” Yuri crowed, a sly grin gracing his elegant face. “Good evening, Jadzia. Took you long enough.”

Jadzia fought the urge to roll her eyes, setting her face into a calm and still mask. Yuri stood in the winter cold, looking smug and refined from his full eyelashes to his signature pointed shoes. Despite her annoyance at the interruption, Jadzia couldn’t deny that there was an uncanny intimacy to the way Yuri was the only person above or below ground at Garreg Mach who called her by her true name. That, combined with his charm and fierce loyalty, let him get away with a lot – from being late to meetings to unexpected housecalls.

“What could you possibly want right now, Yuri?”

“There are far too many ways to answer that question, especially when you’re involved,” Yuri replied with a twinkle in his eye, as he leaned against the door. Jadzia had to brace herself against it to keep the door from swinging open.

“Try one,” she said.

“How about you let me in first? You usually do by now,” Yuri said. 

“Only when you have something useful for me,” Jadzia said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Otherwise, I’m sure whatever it is can wait ‘til tomorrow.”

Yuri’s eyes gave her a once over, noting the way her cloak was wrapped tight around her, her bare foot wedged across the threshold to bar his entry. His lavender eyes looked past her, searching for any clues in the narrow strip of her quarters he could see from where he stood. A discarded black leather glove, much too large for Jadzia’s elegant hands, lay in the middle of her floor. 

“Am I,” Yuri began, “interrupting something?”

“Yes, in fact,” Jadzia replied haughtily. “I was getting ready for bed.”

“Bit early for you, isn’t it? Aren’t you usually a night owl-”

“Yuri, it’s cold. I’m tired. While usually I’d relish the chance to best you in some witty repartée, will you please get to the point of this visit?”

Underneath the bed, Claude lay awkwardly huddled and uncomfortably erect. His earlier plan to talk with Jadzia about his potentially-not-fully-resolved relationship with Judith came roaring back to him. He hadn’t realized that in sharing about himself, that it might have been a prime opportunity to learn about Jadzia’s own relationships – and any sticky-fingered tricksters that apparently had all-hours access to her quarters. From his vantage point, Claude could just see Jadzia’s fine tapered ankles, her Golden Deer charm taunting him in the candlelight. 

Yuri cleared his throat, before crisply uttering, ”You told me to give you a report regarding the influx of new refugees in Abyss by today.” 

Jadzia sighed in exasperation. “So I did. You can hand it over then.” 

“I didn’t write it down, are you kidding? Far too much sensitive information. People come to Abyss for anonymity, for protection. I can’t have documents just lying out for anyone to read. No, this is an oral report.”

Jadzia closed her eyes, calling upon the last dregs of her patience before answering, “Yuri, it will just have to wait. I can’t listen to a lengthy report right now. Come back tomorrow. Before sundown.”

“I am interrupting something.”

“Yuri,” Jadzia said, seething now, “come back tomorrow.”

“I’d love to, you know I would. But I’m interviewing teacher candidates all day tomorrow, which you would have known if you had let me share my report because there’s a lot of little kids in Abyss these days and we need to start like a grammar school or something. After that, the Wolves and I have some… um, errands to run and we’ll be gone for a few days. So I can’t make it up topside for a while, and actually I need you to check-”

“Check in on Abyss while you’re away,” Jadzia finished for him. She sighed. It seemed her work was never finished.

“Thank the Goddess you’re not Hapi, or else you would’ve killed me twice over with those sighs.”

“Still can, Yuri. Maybe not with a sigh, but I still can.”

“Say, why don’t you join me for the teacher interviews tomorrow? I could use your professional opinion, and then you can see the state of the refugees yourself. Win-win.”

“For you maybe, what do I get out of it other than entirely shifting my schedule?”

“The warm feeling of helping those in need, and a few hours of my scintillating company.”

Jadzia regarded Yuri coolly, mulling his proposition over. Her obligation to the denizens of Abyss warred with her rising guilt over Claude, still hiding under her bed and probably listening to every word. She would owe him an explanation. She and Claude were expected to survey monastery fortifications tomorrow, just as she had expected to have Claude halfway to climax by now.

"Fine," Jadzia conceded. Anything to get rid of Yuri at this moment. "Interviews, tomorrow. Good night."

"Excellent. At the very least, Jadzia, I promise it will be interesting. Oh, and lunch. I promise lunch. Interviews are at the Withering Rose."

Jadzia shut the door in his face.

"Good night!" Yuri shouted cheerily, his voice muffled. As the steps of Yuri’s pointed shoes faded in the distance, Jadzia locked the door, resolving to research some magical means to boost her room’s security. 

“He’s gone,” she said, eyes closed.

She could hear Claude stirring under the bed. Embarrassment fell on her shoulders like a heavy shroud, the heat of a deep blush spreading across her cheeks and neck. She had asked Claude – ordered him, really – to hide as another man called upon her. Jadzia knew what it looked like, and while her history with Yuri wasn’t exactly squeaky clean, it wasn’t worth _forcing Claude to hide_. And then she had to go and agree to spend all afternoon with Yuri tomorrow? Just once, Jadzia reproached herself, just once she could've said no when someone asked for help. She let her forehead fall against the door with a soft _thump_ as she exhaled deeply.

Claude tossed his bundle of clothes out before him and hauled himself out from under the bed. There was no way to accomplish the task gracefully, and he was glad Jadzia’s back was toward him as he nearly stumbled over his own feet trying to stand. If he wasn’t so mad at himself, he might have found the whole situation comical. This was not how he had hoped the evening would play out. He wished he could go back to that moment at dinner when she had placed her hand on his shoulder, beckoning him to wait and follow. Back when he naively believed he could get away with an evening without secrets or politics. Claude put his hands on his hips, his trousers riding low without a belt. He could see Jadzia facing the door, her cloak hanging haphazardly from her slumped shoulders, one hand on the door handle, the other balled into a fist. She looked as frustrated as he felt.

It was unfair, especially to her, Claude thought. They spent every day carefully calculating risk and debating consequences as this war waged on. Didn’t they deserve a little relief? Couldn’t they afford to be a little reckless?

“I’m sorry,” Jadzia began. She could hear Claude approaching so she turned to face him. “I should have anticipated that. Yuri can be such an ass. All I wanted tonight was-”

Claude kissed her before she could say more, stealing her words with a feral sort of abandon. He pushed her against the door, avoiding any and all intrusive thoughts as he yanked her cloak from her shoulders and pressed his lips to the lily white skin of her throat. He needed to tell her about Judith. He wanted to ask her about Yuri. But Claude knew that both conversations would pause – maybe even end – these gentle moans in his ear, the hands racing up his back to pull him closer. _Later_ , he resolved, as he slid his hand down the front of her shorts, fingers reaching toward places he knew would make her gasp and squirm. _Maybe tomorrow._

“Tell me to stop,” he said breathlessly even as he inched his hand further. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

Jadzia shook her head vigorously, “I can’t.” 

In her eyes, Claude could see his own wild need reflected back at him. He grabbed her by the back of the neck, letting his tongue pulse against hers as his fingers dove into her shorts, finding her opening at once wet, hot and tender. 

Jadzia let out a tiny gasp, muffled by Claude’s fervent kisses. His fingers were rough, working fast and hard, just like she wanted. After burning for him all day, and then nearly fizzling out with an awkward interruption, Jadzia didn’t want to waste any time. She wanted to be fucked.

Impatient and wanting more of him, Jadzia pushed down her shorts, Claude tugging them off the rest of the way with his free hand. Free of the entanglement, Jadzia hitched one leg up around Claude’s waist, guiding his fingers deeper into her. She could feel his fingers curling against her innermost walls, a ‘come hither’ motion that left her shivering as she tried to maintain her balance. She threw her hands around his neck, pulling him closer so that she could sink her teeth into his bare skin – not deep enough to break, but hard enough to hurt.

Claude groaned, the pain sharpening his senses and spurring him to act. He let his thumb find her clit, applying a pressure that elicited a sharp gasp out of her. He slid his other hand up her raised thigh to grasp appreciatively at the fullness of her ass. If he had to pick a favorite part of her, the powerful curve of her ample bottom would top his list. He remembered sitting in her lectures as a student, pretending to take notes as his eyes raked across her ass while she wrote on the chalkboard. And now that he could have that ass in the flesh, flesh was all he wanted.

Too soon, Claude could hear Jadzia’s breathing change, periodic groans shifting to a fever pitch of breathy gasps. He’d be damned if he would let her come just yet. He was just getting started, his cock still hard, still waiting for release. Withdrawing his hand from inside her, his fingers slick, Claude felt a thrilling rush of glee as her eyes flashed at him accusingly. She did not want him to stop. Instead he scooped her up in her arms, the heat of her skin against his propelling him across the room to her bed. Jadzia dappled kisses down his cheek and neck as he carried her, nibbling at his ear in a way that was far too distracting than had any right to be.

Claude set her down, intending to push her back on the pillows and spread her legs. He wanted to lap at her sex until his beard dripped with her wetness. But Jadzia was faster. As soon as he released her, she was on her knees, unbuttoning the trousers that she’d failed to remove earlier. Before he could react, Claude’s pants were at his ankles, his turgid cock deep in Jadzia’s mouth. Still standing, Claude held his breath as he carded his hands through his hair, trying to make the moment last.

Jadzia had her hands firmly on Claude’s hips, her movements purposeful and practiced. As she wrapped her lips around him, Jadzia closed her eyes. Listening intently, she found Claude’s every grunt and sigh exhilarating, his sounds her cue to linger here, to move faster now, to grip him with her hands as well as her mouth. There was nothing she detested, and yet nothing she yearned for more than to be left at the edge of desire. She hated the sudden stop, so close to her climax, but loved the promise of higher summits yet to come. It was only fair if Claude made that journey with her too.

Claude was near delirious with her attentions. He didn’t know where to look: watching her lips encircling him only enflamed him; while to look away only narrowed his focus on the pulsating heat of her. To save himself, he pushed her away. Jadzia daintily sat back on her haunches, a look of triumph in her eyes as she wiped the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

He climbed onto the bed, pushing her back onto the faded quilt with a kiss to wipe the smug look off her face. Jadzia kissed him back eagerly, reaching to guide his cock inside her. But Claude evaded her hands, trailing kisses down her neck and onto her chest. Jadzia huffed, nearly an exasperated laugh, when she realized he wasn’t nearly done with her. He paid brief homage to her nipples, tonguing each until they swelled hard under his lips, before kissing his way to her navel and finally the verdant down of her sex.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” she teased him. 

Claude gave her an incredulous look, his carefree confidence causing her to shiver before he even touched her. That made him grin. The next thing she knew, his tongue ran delicately up the seam of her folds, only to arrive pulsing against the node of her clit. Jadzia took a deep breath, trying to relax, trying to ignore the tingling sparks that he lit in her. But Claude was persistent, his tongue a catalyst. As Claude flicked his tongue on the delicate rim of her entrance, Jadzia felt her toes involuntarily curl, her back begin to arch. She could feel herself gushing, feel the sheets begin to dampen. It was only when he began to gently suck on her clit, his fingers delving inside her again, that she forgot how to breathe.

“Claude,” she panted above him. _“Claude.”_

That wasn’t his name, not really anyway, just a mantle he’d assumed. But coming from her lips it sounded like music, a song meant for him. He’d never felt closer to anyone, and yet there was so much she didn’t know about him. So much that he didn’t know about her in turn. At least he could say he knew how she tasted, how this sweet viscous sip of her coated his tongue and only fueled his desire for her.

He pulled away from her, utterly pleased himself as he saw the deep blush of her neck and cheeks, her arm thrown across her eyes.

“Don’t stop,” she begged.

He mounted her, pushing into her with ease, the fruit of his labor letting him glide deliciously into her up to his hilt. He could feel her legs twining together behind his back, her hips rising to meet him as he began to thrust. A smile played at her lips as she closed her eyes in ecstasy. Claude kissed her eyelids, burying his fingers in her green tresses as he tried to pace himself. 

Jadzia was at the mercy of the sensations building inside her. He fit inside her too well, touched her just right, kissed her just so. She was so close that it scared her. She knew she would lose control, more than she already had, more than she ever had. Still, her want of him made her ravenous.

“Harder,” she whispered in his ear.

This request Claude took, one that he wanted for himself. As he pumped, his breath quickening with effort, his grip tightened in her hair, pulling at her roots. She moaned, deeply this time, her utterance threatening to overwhelm him. But Jadzia broke first, a spine-tingling tide washing over her in waves of bliss. She clung desperately to Claude, letting him coax every last drop of pleasure from her.

Just as she came, Claude pulled out, leaving her hollow, breathless, and craving more. Before she could realize what was happening, he roughly turned her over. He ran his hands down her back as he positioned himself behind her, the heat of her skin and the heave of her breath stoking his fire. Jadzia stretched like a cat, her spine bending downward in an elegant arc, an angle that allowed him to take in the delicious contrast of her corded muscle and soft curves. She made him want her all the more. It was easy to find her opening again, her slit soaked and inviting. He slid back inside her with a sigh, reveling in the drag of a few softer thrusts before picking up speed. Jadzia whipped her head up, her hair flipping in a green cascade down her back.

“Fuck, _Teach_ …” Claude breathed in wonder. She eyed him over her shoulder, a challenging look as she pressed her backside into him. Claude was incensed. Unthinking, he smacked her on the ass. When her mouth fell open in surprise, he did it again. And when she nodded, he did it again, harder. She cried out, and Claude knew he was done for. He came, his release an exquisite jolt that took his breath away.

Claude collapsed next to her, his heart racing. She had fallen on to her stomach, but when she turned to give him a worn, satisfied smile, it was nearly enough to start Claude up all over again. 

But as much as he wanted to linger, he knew he should probably leave. Last time he’d nearly overslept, and now he felt like he’d stolen time he didn’t deserve – even though it was given willingly. There were things he was realizing he wanted to say, things about not wanting to be with anyone else but her, about not wanting to share her. But the words caught in his throat, strange and new and not yet fully formed. Above all, he couldn’t bring himself to burst this bubble he found himself in, the one made by the scent of her skin and the warmth of her smile.

Jadzia spoke first, her words like steps on a frozen lake – tentative and slow.

“I don’t know how this ends,” she said.

Claude was still catching his breath. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“I’ve never taken up with a friend before,” Jadzia clarified. “I don’t know how this kind of thing ends.”

Claude clenched his jaw. “Are you saying we should stop?”

“No,” she said haltingly. “I’m saying I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know what happens next.”

He sighed, “That makes two of us.”

A silence stretched out between them, at once intimate and unsure. Though he was laying perfectly still, Claude’s heart pounded in his ears.

“Teach, I should-”

“Claude, do you-”

“Go ahead,” Claude insisted, relieved at the opportunity to rethink his words. Jadzia raised up on an elbow to gaze down at him.

“Do you want to court me?” she asked. 

Claude couldn’t help bursting out laughing. Her words, her whole demeanor was so serious and he was a bundle of nerves. When she didn’t smile, Claude realized too late that he probably shouldn’t have laughed.

“Like, with flowers and poems and dates?” Claude asked. She nodded, still serious.

“I hadn’t thought about it,” Claude said. “I didn’t think you even liked that sort of thing.”

Jadzia sighed and fell back onto the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

“I don’t,” she said emphatically. “In the past, if I was sleeping with someone and he wanted to start courting me, that’s when I knew it was over.”

“I can honestly say I don’t want to court you,” Claude said. “Where would I find the time?”

“Exactly! I barely have time for myself, let alone sappy poems and getting promenaded about the square.” 

Claude gave her a questioning look. Jadzia shrugged, “I don’t know. That’s what Lorenz seems to always be doing.”

“I think we can both agree to not follow Lorenz’s example,” Claude noted. “Although I can write a damn fine poem.” Jadzia chuckled.

“Alright, well, maybe just one poem then,” she conceded, “if it’s funny.”

“And dirty,” Claude added.

“Perfect.” They both laughed.

Claude relished the sound, a balm on his nerves. Here was further proof that there was no other woman quite like Jadzia. And somehow this extraordinary woman enjoyed having him in her bed. Jadzia rolled to face him, her bright eyes glittering in the candlelight. He reached across to gently tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. She rewarded him with a smile. Moved, Claude found he had to speak.

“Why would I waste my time courting, when I already spend most of my days talking and laughing with my best friend?”

Her smile widened. “I couldn’t agree more.”

He kissed her, tenderly, making it last. In the back of his mind, Claude knew this wasn’t exactly ‘best friend’ behavior, but then he’d never known anyone like Jadzia. He pulled her toward him as her kisses grew more fervent. Claude entwined his feet with hers, but she yelped and pushed him away.

“Holy fuck, you’re feet are _freezing_ ,” she said with a laugh. “How does that even happen?”

Claude trapped her in a bear hug, pressing his icy feet against her calves, trying to warm up. She yelped again, but her howls turned into laughter.

“For some reason,” Claude said flippantly, as he held down her squirming frame, “my blood flow must be all messed up. No idea why, but I blame you.”

Jadzia snorted, “Pretty sure it was more of a joint effort.”

Claude laughed heartily. Jadzia leaned into him, letting his arms envelope her. She could hear his laugh deep and resonant in his chest. She found herself snuggling into him, her nose nuzzling his chest hair. She had never considered herself the snuggling type, but in the moment, with Claude, nothing felt more right. If only in this moment, she felt anchored amid the shifting tides of Fódlan’s ongoing war.

"Do you ever feel like your role is too big for you?" she asked suddenly, listening to his heartbeat. “Like you can’t possibly do everything that the role requires?”

"All the time,” Claude admitted, his eyes closing as he held her. “One minute I'm chasing rumors about where Dimitri might be, the next I'm chasing Hilda because she half-assed her duties. And that's not even counting all the Alliance politics." Or the Almyran ones, but he kept that part to himself.

"Exactly,” Jadzia agreed. “It's like there aren’t enough hours in the day, and yet every day more mouths to feed arrive, and every day Edelgard's forces grow stronger. Everyone expects you to know what to do… How can I know? I barely know what I am."

Claude shifted position to look her in the eye.

"You're Teach. Yeah, people come to you for answers, me included, but it's because you're good at it. You think about what a person needs and you tell it to them straight. We're all used to the political jockeying of nobles. You cut through that pegasus dung with ease."

"You’re not so different. I've seen you,” Jadzia insisted. “You always have the right thing to say, something disarming and diplomatic so that people will actually stop trying to kill each other and listen. Whether you're talking to a lord or a farmer, you treat everyone the same. You approach everyone like they're equal, and hear them all out as if they each have the answer you've been looking for. It's no wonder this coalition has survived.”

"Yeah, well I had a good teacher. Who do you think I learned to do all that from?"

Jadzia demurred, "Please, I was a professor in title only. Barely older than any of you students. I learned as much if not more from all of you."

"Yeah, I know. It's why we liked you so much. Still do."

"Flattery will only get you so far, sir."

"Good thing I have other talents,” Claude said, sneaking a hand to her breast. Jadzia laughed. Claude smiled back at her.

"What you said before, yeah the job feels big,” he said. “But I’ve got big plans, Teach. I want to see a world where people can worship whatever gods, however they want. I want kids in this world to grow up meeting all different kinds of people and learning about their different perspectives – like we had at the Academy, but bigger. And I want to see a day where we don’t have to fight anymore, because everything we believe in just is. Don't you? Sometimes, it seems way too big for any one person, certainly bigger than me. But that's why we're a team, right?"

Jadzia loved when Claude talked like this, when he reminded her that there was still something to believe in. She’d sat up with him late at night in the library, listening as he pulled stories off the shelves and pointed out that imagination was the first step to making something possible. She’d heard him galvanize their allies on the eve of battle with his sense of purpose and vision.  
She’d seen him whisper it to the stars, beseeching any sort of deity to help him. But to hear it up close, in his arms, was something powerfully different.

“Of course,” she said, answering his question. “And don’t you ever doubt it.”

Claude tilted her chin up and kissed her, long and slow. He couldn’t have imagined a more perfect moment, not even if he lifted it right out of a fairy tale. But the one thing he could do without was the needling dread of what he wasn’t able to tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope a longer chapter makes up for my hiatus last week! With this week being New Year's, and the last of my Winter Break, I need to take the time to retool some plot and get this story moving! Next week I'll have a small collection of fluff scenes for you all before the next big update. Thanks to everyone who has read so far, especially the amazing folks who have shared invaluable feedback with me. You all make me feel so validated. I'm excited to take you on this journey with Claude and Jadzia :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude and Jadzia discuss mission details with Seteth, Alois, Lorenz, and Hilda. After some playful prodding, Hilda tries to find out what's eating Claude. A flashback reveals his history with Judith.

Claude scarfed down the last of a sausage roll as he shouldered open the door to the Golden Deer classroom. Mid-chew with a mouthful of pastry, Claude walked in to find five pairs of eyes staring at him.

“There you are. Get enough beauty sleep?” Hilda teased.

“Good morning to you, too,” Claude replied, unfazed. It had, in fact, been an exceptionally good morning. Claude could think of few finer ways to wake than with Jadzia’s keen pair of lips around his shaft. Even though Claude had nearly run into Lysithea (her nose buried in a book as she stalked the campus grounds) when he snuck out of Jadzia’s quarters, the risk was worth every moan and gasp he’d been able to coax from his Teach. After a shower and a shave, he had been lucky to snag a bite to eat before breakfast service ended. 

“I don’t remember a meeting being scheduled,” Claude said as he joined the others standing around a table. Across from him, Seteth and Alois nodded warmly in greeting. But Claude found himself standing between his least and most favorite people in the room.

“Claude,” the Gloucester heir said in a clipped tone with the slightest inclination of his head.

“Lorenz,” Claude acknowledged coolly. He wasn’t going to allow Lorenz to intrude on his otherwise good mood, but Claude couldn’t help but wonder why the snobbish lordling was there. He was usually too busy criticizing Claude to actually lift a finger and help with planning.

As though she heard his question, Jadzia informed Claude, “We were all at breakfast together when the conversation turned to our upcoming mission. I thought it best if we discussed Ailell with maps to hand.” She smiled at him, polite and warm save for a wicked twinkle in her eye. “Good morning, by the way. Nice to see you.”

She’d already bade him good morning earlier, her voice husky and breathless as she collapsed on top of him. Just seeing her now set his pulse racing. Jadzia looked fresh, well rested, her hair pulled back into a small bun. Claude fought the urge to kiss the creamy skin of her neck. Instead, he gave her a quick, cheeky wink. Jadzia rolled her eyes.

“I have not ventured to Ailell in quite a long time,” Seteth said, studying the maps. “The plan to stay mobile and off the fiery surface is a good one. But it is a valley, with too few exits and far too many ways to get boxed in. If the terrain shifts – or, Goddess forbid, we have unexpected visitors – getting out quickly will be a challenge.”

“Truer still when we have more allies in tow,” Alois noted. “Do we even know how many troops House Daphnel has promised?”

“Not yet,” Jadzia began. “But we estimate it could be-”

“I have an update on that,” Claude cut in, “I received a message from Judith last night. House Daphnel has committed 100 troops, and Judith will lead them. It seems she wishes to join our cause herself.”

Jadzia glanced at him, her look brief and inscrutable. Claude tried not to meet her eyes. A pang of guilt reminded him that he should’ve told Jadzia about Judith sooner. Claude could feel the hole he was digging himself into deepen. But now was not the time. He wasn’t about to spill his sordid relationship history now, in front of everyone. No, the conversation would have to wait until they were alone, and – knowing his own weaknesses – fully clothed.

Alois pounded the table with his fist, the sound snapping Claude out of his preoccupied thoughts.

“Capital!” Alois exclaimed. “The things we could do with 100 fresh, new troops! More guard shifts, more hands to strengthen fortifications! Claude, this is truly excellent news. We are in your debt for your efforts with Lady Judith.”

“Indeed,” Seteth added. “This is a momentous step, a testament to our cause. However you were able to massage that relationship will have a lasting impact, to be sure.”

“Heh,” Claude said nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t mention it…”

Hilda made a face, “Hold on a second, how are we going to feed 101 new allies? We can’t grow much in the winter, even with the greenhouse, and we’re paying through the nose for what little supplies we can import. The forests surrounding us will soon be overhunted at this rate. What are we supposed to do?”

“Judith is bringing some supplies with her, which might tide us over for a while, but we’ll have to look for more long-term solutions,” Claude said. “Considering where the Empire is blocking trade routes, I suggest-”

“Now hold on. Before we start discussing yet another mission, there are still far too many loose ends with regard to the excursion to Ailell,” Lorenz insisted.

Claude sighed, “And those would be…?”

“First and foremost, Claude, your plans seem to indicate that you won’t bring any mounted units – such as my esteemed personnage – on this mission, which is ridiculous!” Lorenz huffed. “It would be highly inappropriate if I were not there to meet Lady Judith, seeing as House Gloucester and House Daphnel are cousins-”

“It’s the Alliance, Lorenz. Everybody is somebody’s distant cousin,” Claude pointed out, annoyed.

But Lorenz would not be deterred, “Well, clearly, to some of us family ties are far more sacred than what could be imagined by the likes of some trumped up-”

“Lorenz, thank you for reminding us, of course there is a necessary role for mounted units in our plan,” Jadzia said evenly, trying to keep the peace. “As Seteth pointed out, exits from the Valley of Torment are limited. Claude and I were hoping you would lead a battalion to hold the pass into the valley in order to keep an exit open.”

Jadzia glanced at Claude again, this time her eyes pleading for him to go along with her story. They had discussed no such thing, but Claude was on board with anything that shut Lorenz up.

“Precisely,” Claude said, following along. “Should we need to beat a hasty retreat, your position would be vital.”

Hilda gently elbowed Lorenz with a bat of her eyelashes. “See?” she whispered to him. “I told you it would work out.”

Lorenz preened under Hilda’s attention. Catching himself, he then sniffed haughtily at Claude, imperious but mollified. “Hmm, a command position such as that would be commensurate with my station.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t call it _command_ -” 

Claude stopped mid-sentence and winced as Jadzia trod upon his foot.

“Hilda does have a point,” Jadzia continued. “We need to figure out how to keep our growing army supplied. And for that we’ll need to go on the offensive.”

“Perhaps overtaking the checkpoints on the road south, toward House Varley?” Alois suggested.

“That’s small potatoes,” Claude pointed out. “We need to strike the Empire where it would hurt, where we can not only resupply, but kick them out of a strategic location.” Jadzia nodded, unrolling a full map of Fódlan onto the table.

“Myrddin,” she said, pointing to the region on the map.

Claude couldn’t help but chuckle, “Took the word right out of my mouth, Teach.”

“The Great Bridge?” Seteth noted. “That’s ambitious.”

“We have to be. Securing Myrddin means opening up supply lines and gaining ground on Edelgard. She won’t expect an offensive assault like this from us so soon,” Jadzia said.

“Not to mention seeing Acheron’s face when we defeat him,” Lorenz said. “That is sure to be an unparalleled joy.”

“For once Lorenz, I wholeheartedly agree,” said Claude. That earned a giggle from Hilda.

Seteth tugged his beard in thought, “It’s not without risks, but as you say there is much to gain. For one, if Lady Rhea is being held in Enbarr as we suspect, keeping an open route into the Empire can only aid a future rescue effort.”

“And Myrddin is more than just a bridge, it houses its own garrison,” Alois said. “The armory alone would be a worthy prize.”

“Sounds like we’re in agreement, then,” Jadzia said.

“And it sounds like we have our work cut out for us, Teach,” Claude noted, eyes on the map. Setting a goal was easy, but hashing out the plan was another beast entirely. He was already scheming, cataloguing potential pitfalls and imagining tactics to gain entry. Lost in thought, Claude inadvertently raised a hand to place at the small of Jadzia’s back, wanting to draw her in, to steady himself with her presence. But realizing where he was, he quickly stuffed his hand into his pocket.

“If the way you two defended the monastery last moon is any indication, then I have faith in your plans,” Seteth said, solemnly addressing both Claude and Jadzia. “In spite of everything, one advantage we will always have over Edelgard is the spirit of partnership and ingenuity you both inspire in all of us. May the Goddess continue to smile on our efforts.”

“Here, here!” Alois agreed.

Jadzia blushed at the praise, “We don’t even know how we’re going to accomplish anything yet.”

Claude gave Jadzia a little nudge of encouragement. “But we will, we always do,” he said to her, his smile conspiratorial. “Who’s better than us, right Teach?”

If anything, Jadzia’s blush deepened. She crossed her arms, shoving Claude in return with her shoulder. But Claude couldn’t help but notice the smile she was trying to bite back.

Bells tolled the hour across the monastery, calling everyone to their next task. Alois and Lorenz made their goodbyes, with Lorenz complaining loudly that he was off to try out a new tailor, "or at least what passes for one around here."

“The choir director wanted to speak with us about the coming Saint Indech Day celebrations,” Seteth reminded Jadzia. “I have a brief errand to run, but I will meet you in the cathedral shortly?”

Jadzia nodded as Seteth turned to go. Like Claude, Jadzia’s eyes were on the map before them, one finger tapping her lip as she was deep in thought.

“Will that church thing take long?” Claude asked once Seteth had left. “The engineers are expecting us up on the battlements later to inspect the fortifications.”

“Claude,” she hesitated, with a brief glance toward Hilda. “I’m… assisting Yuri today. Remember?”

“Oh, right,” he said, trying to keep the heat of embarrassment from flooding his face. 

“If you need me-”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll update you later,” Claude said hurriedly. “I don’t want to keep you.” 

Of course he wanted to keep her. He wanted to ask her not to go anywhere with Yuri, however innocuous. He wanted the kind of day he loved best, a day working alongside her while she rolled her eyes at his jokes and they finished each other’s sentences. Was she like that with Yuri? Claude wasn’t sure if he was ready for that answer.

“Alright,” Jadzia conceded as she gathered up her things. “I’ll see you after?” 

“Of course,” Claude said. “Don’t have too much fun without me.” Jadzia rolled her eyes and smiled. She bid Hilda goodbye, and headed toward the door, Claude’s eyes following her every step.

When the door closed, Hilda smacked Claude on the arm.

“What was that?” she hissed. Claude frowned at her, “What was what?”

Hilda exaggeratedly picked up a stack of books on the table and batted her eyelashes, a caricature of Jadzia. 

“‘I’ll see you after’,” Hilda mimicked in a soft voice. She pitched her voice low to imitate Claude, “Don’t have too much fun without me.” She slammed the books down and smacked Claude’s arm again, emphasizing each word “What. was. THAT?”

Claude fended her off, exceedingly grateful that the high collar on his coat covered the love bites on his neck. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he insisted. 

“As if. I saw that little nudge, that little pep talk. Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me nothing is happening there?”

Claude regarded her coolly. “We’re just friends.” 

Hilda served him a withering look. “Claude, we’re just friends. We don’t flirt like that.”

He shrugged, turning his attention to blueprints of the monastery before him. “You flirt with me all the time.”

“First of all, I flirt with everyone, and secondly, you haven’t really flirted back since we were kids.”

“You mean back before I knew how astonishingly lazy you are?” The glib remark earned Claude another smack.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Hilda. It’s not like that between me and her,” Claude said, lying through his teeth. “When would I have time for that sort of thing anyway?”

Hilda pouted, disappointment written across her face. “Ugh, Responsible Claude is soooo much less fun than Academy Claude. You’re really not tapping that?” Hilda asked, pointing to the door where Jadzia just exited.

Claude feigned bewilderment, “Wow, I’m not even going to deign that with a response.”

Hilda slumped into a chair and sighed heavily. “There hasn’t been any good gossip around here for ages. Someone sleeping with the professor would’ve been just the thing.”

“I don’t know. You stringing along Lorenz is a pretty juicy story.”

Hilda shot daggers at Claude with her eyes. “I am _not_ stringing him along,” she asserted. Hilda pointedly began examining her cuticles. “If anything, it’s the other way around,” she mumbled.

Claude set his pencil down and leveled her with a look. “I find that hard to believe,” he said.

“Ugh,” Hilda groaned as she rolled her eyes heavenward. “Claude, is that really something I would lie about? Me. But Lorenz’s prim purple butt wants to wait until after the war ‘before we consider our own future.’ I’m like, what if we don’t make it? Isn’t that more of a reason to get together, while there’s still time?” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “I am a hot commodity. I don’t wait around for anyone. And then he has the gall to go wine and dine some sisters with Caspar and Sylvain all night. I mean, really, I am not waiting around for that.”

Claude raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as he returned to his maps. During his years living in Fódlan, Claude couldn’t help but notice how his noble peers acted brazenly with commoner girls, and trotted out their chivalrous sides for women of status. Yet another of the many things he hoped would change with Fódlan’s new dawn. 

Hilda turned back to Claude. “How did you find out about him and me anyway?”

He shrugged, “You’re not the only one who gets letters from your brother.”

“UGH. I swear, I’m going to murder Holst next time I’m home.”

Claude snorted, “He’d probably give you constructive feedback even as your axeblade is coming down on his neck.”

“I can just hear him now. ‘Excellent use of the element of surprise, Hilda! But really if you put your back into the strike more…’” Hilda bellowed, affecting her brother’s sonorous timbre. Claude chuckled as he worked.

After a few moments of amiable silence, Hilda rose from her seat to lean against the table where Claude was working. He glanced up at her and saw a hesitant question in her eyes.

“What?”

“Are you going to be alright,” Hilda asked, her signature teasing tone turning tentative, “with Judith joining the campaign?”

Claude stiffened. It was almost a year since he’d told Hilda about his affair with Judith. When Hilda had found him in the Goneril Manor wine cellar during her cousin’s engagement party, the truth had come spilling out... 

_“You’re Duke Riegan, Claude, and this is an official Alliance ball. You can’t just hide here all night,” Hilda scolded. The swish of her taffeta gown added an unspoken “tsk tsk.”_

_“I’m not hiding,” Claude insisted, seated on the floor, as he leaned against an enormous wine cask. “I’m just mentally preparing myself for something I don’t want to do.”_

_Hilda sighed as she kicked off her heeled shoes and sat down next to Claude._

_“Aren’t you the hostess of this official party?” he asked her as she smoothed the fine fabric of her skirts around her._

_“Yup, but they’ll just have to get along without me for a while. Because I’m not leaving until you are, or at least until you tell me what’s wrong.”_

_It was Claude’s turn to sigh. He’d found an old wine cork on the floor and had been twiddling it between his fingers ever since he arrived in the cellar. He twisted and turned the cork over and over, trying to focus._

_“It’s just a dumb thing, Hilda. Go back to your party.”_

_“I’ll tell you a dumb thing. My brother just introduced me to that widowed viscount for a potential marriage – which, ew, gross – when I had spent the better part of the dance making out with the viscount’s son in a coat closet,” Hilda said. She turned to Claude, “Can your dumb thing top that?”_

_Claude snorted, but he otherwise remained quiet. The cork continued to twirl over his fingers. In a huff, Hilda snatched it away and threw it across the room._

_“I’m trying to be a good friend here,” she asserted when he glared at her crossly. “Can’t you at least pretend to notice?”_

_Claude closed his eyes and let his head rest against the sturdy staves of the wine cask. “Promise you won’t laugh?”_

_“No,” Hilda said flatly. Claude leered at her._

_“How am I supposed to promise when you haven’t even told me yet?” she demanded._

_When Claude remained mum, Hilda conceded, “Fine, I can at least promise not to tell anyone. Will that suit His Grace?”_

_“I can see why Holst wants to marry you off. You must be a pain in the ass to live with.”_

_“Well if I’m going to be insulted, I should at least have some wine,” Hilda said, pointing toward the wine rack near Claude. “Grab one from the bottom, that’s the older stuff. Holst will be livid.”_

_Claude did as he was told, popping the cork off something sparkling and white. He wiped off the bubbles with his handkerchief before handing the bottle over to Hilda, who took a very unladylike swig._

_She smacked her lips in satisfaction, but continued to eye Claude. “You don’t tend to shy away from political intrigue, so I can only assume you’re hiding here because of something romantic.”_

_“I’m not hiding,” Claude said as he took his turn with the bottle. “But this is the Alliance we’re talking about, so wouldn’t you agree politics and romance tend to go hand-in-hand here?”_

_“Ugh, fair point,” Hilda said, as she took another swig._

_Claude braced himself. He rarely spoke about his personal affairs, even less so since he left the Academy and Jadzia had disappeared. There were so few people he could trust. But somehow, Hilda was one of them._

_“I’ve been having an affair with Judith – on and off – for the last three years.”_

_Hilda nearly spit out her drink. “LADY Judith? The Hero of Daphnel?”_

_“You know another Judith?”_

_“But… she’s OLD.”_

_Claude made a face. “She’s not even 40.”_

_“Like… a sexy affair?”_

_“Okay, you know what? I’m sorry I said anything. I’ll be leaving now.” Claude moved to stand, but Hilda yanked him back down._

_“Just… give me a minute to process this,” Hilda declared. The wine was beginning to hit her. Claude snatched the bottle back for himself._

_“So you’ve been having an affair – a sexy one – with the Hero of Daphnel, for the last three years,” Hilda repeated._

_“On and off,” Claude corrected._

_“And are you two on or off right now?”_

_Claude inclined his head, “That’s where it gets tricky.”_

_“Which is why you’re down here right now.”_

_“You got it.” He took another swig._

_“I have so many questions.”_

_“You can have three.”_

_Hilda frowned, trying to pick the three juiciest. “How did it start?” she finally asked._

_“When we finally got all Five Lords of the Alliance to agree to avoid open war with Edelgard. I could never have done it without her. We were out celebrating at a tavern, when I said we made a good team, and she agreed. She asked if we could work together more intimately, and I agreed. And that’s how I learned that I do not mind being tied up by a beautiful woman.”_

_Hilda’s jaw dropped as she gave him a playful smack. “Claude!” she chided. Claude shrugged sheepishly and handed back the bottle._

_“So why is it on and off with her?”_

_Claude’s eyes widened, as he started to feel the alcohol in his system. “Where do I even start? She’s demanding, everything’s always on her schedule, no one else’s. She has high, high standards – and heaven forbid if you don’t meet them. She can be pretty cold, like she only does something depending on what she can get out of it. So when I started sleeping with her, it was like I was running up a tab of neverending favors.”_

_“For fuck’s sake Claude...” Hilda said under her breath, her head in her hand’s as she listened._

_“Wait I didn’t even tell you the worst part. Whenever I tell her I want out, she doesn’t listen. She just laughs it off and says I’ll be back.” Claude threw up his hands in desperation. “And the worst-worst part is, I do. I always go back.”_

_“Those are all bad things,” Hilda observed. “How is this relationship ever ‘on?’”_

_“I don’t know how to tell you this, Hilda. But when I say the sex is quite excellent… I might be underselling it. I mean, have you ever been really, REALLY angry at someone, but then they suck your-”_

_“By all that is holy, Claude, keep it in your pants!” Hilda shouted as she started to laugh uncontrollably._

_“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” Claude noted, though despite himself he found Hilda’s laughter infectious._

_“I absolutely did not agree to that, and I’m sorry. But do you hear yourself? Claude, you are Duke Riegan, the leader of the Leceister Alliance. You’re what, 23? With those eyes and that smile, you could have your pick of any girl – and let’s be honest, many guys – if you wanted.”_

_“I don’t want just anyone,” Claude said. “And besides, in my position, most people I meet don’t care a whit about my smile. They just want the power my position affords.”_

_“How is that any different than your arrangement with Judith?”_

_Claude shrugged again. “The demon you know, I guess.”_

_“Oh, Goddess, please help this poor boy.”_

_“Hilda, if prayer worked, do you think I’d be where I am?”_

_“What was it you said when I first came down here? That you were mentally preparing yourself for something…?”_

_“That I don’t want to do, yeah.”_

_“So what is it? What do you have to do that is worth debasing yourself for this manipulative person?”_

_“I said three questions, Hilda.”_

_“What are you, some troll guarding a bridge? Answer the damn question. And give me back the bottle.”_

_Claude complied and said, “I need to ask for Judith’s help. We’ve kept the Alliance out of the war this long so we could unite the houses, take care of our own affairs. But now I think it’s time for us to not just join the fight, Hilda, we could lead it. That’s not going to happen without support from one of the Alliance’s most prominent commanders”_

_“Running up your tab, I see?”_

_“Well, yeah. And she can get… vindictive if I don’t um… pay. Remember last moon, how you and me and some of the old Golden Deer crowd were supposed to meet in Derdriu for Ignatz’s birthday?”_

_“Yeah, you never showed.”_

_“Yeah. I had a run in with some assassins at home.”_

_“What?!”_

_“Calm down, clearly I’m fine now,” Claude pointed out. “But three-on-one fighting is hard even for me, especially in my pajamas. So I couldn’t make it.”_

_“Do you think Judith sent them?”_

_“It’s not that simple,” Claude said. “Judith is… passionate but she’s not irrational. No, she didn’t send them. But she did spend all of Pegasus Moon publicly questioning my ban on conscripted service and the new fortification tax – just throwing out ‘theories’ that undermine my position. It was the kind of tack that could stoke some hothead already willing to take action. And that’s how I woke up with assassins in my room.”_

_“Goddess,” Hilda breathed out. “Did you ever find out who sent them?”_

_“House Ordelia, or whoever’s in charge of House Ordelia, at least,” Claude said begrudgingly. “Which is why I haven’t told anyone, why you can’t tell anyone. Lysithea can’t find out. She’s got enough to deal with already.”_

_Hilda wordlessly handed over the wine bottle. Claude took a long swig._

_“I can keep Judith busy,” Hilda offered as Claude wiped his mouth. “I can foist Holst on her and maybe they can bother each other instead of either of us.”_

_Claude gave her a half smile, “That’s sweet, Hilda. Really. But I have to talk to her.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Do you know what today is?”_

_“Um… Saturday?”_

_“It’s the 26th of Great Tree Moon,” Claude said. “Teach’s birthday.”_

_“Claude…”_

_“This year, for Ethereal Moon, we’re all supposed to go back to Garreg Mach for the millennial anniversary. All of us. If I’m going to take back the monastery, I’ll need Alliance support. I’ll need Judith’s support.”_

_“Claude,” Hilda offered gently. “It’s been nearly five years. There’s been no sign of her…”_

_“We promised,” Claude insisted. “Teach promised. Have you ever known her to break a promise?”_

_“No, of course not. But Claude-”_

_“We owe it to her,” Claude said, heated now. “We have to at least try. We need her. Fódlan needs her.”_

_Hilda sighed. “Fódlan needs you, Claude. And because of that, you’ll always have my support.”_

Hilda had always been perceptive, Claude had to give her that. But he knew she could be protective too.

“I mean, I’m not thrilled,” Claude finally admitted. He affected a nonchalant tone, hoping to hide his nerves from Hilda. “But Judith brings a lot of value to the cause, and not just in supplies and troops. With Daphnel’s open support, more houses are sure to follow. I guess I can’t really complain too much. Besides, it’s over between me and her. It’s been over.”

“You’ve said as much before,” Hilda warned.

He thought of Seteth’s parting compliment. He thought of the town surrounding Garreg Mach, and how it was just beginning to flourish again. He thought of his classmates turned allies, who left their homes and their families – even their own nations – to be here. And he thought of Jadzia, how when she listened to him every dream he had seemed somehow more possible, how the way she fit within his arms felt like the answer to a question he didn’t know he had.

“Yeah, well,” Claude said, “there are more reasons to believe it this time.”

Hilda regarded him steadily, her look surprisingly pensive.

“Do I have something on my face?” Claude asked, uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

“Don’t make me have to worry about you, Claude,” Hilda insisted. “I don’t know half the schemes you’ve got in play right now, and yet you can waltz in here, charm everyone, and get back to work, when the world is falling apart and the Cougar of Daphnel is on her way. How do you keep it all together?”

“Barely,” Claude said with a half-hearted smile. “But friends who show their concern certainly help.”

“Ew, Claude, don’t get mushy on me,” Hilda replied, although she grinned back at him.

“Don’t get used to it,” he teased. “But in all seriousness, I could use your help today.”

“Oooh, hard pass, sorry,” Hilda apologized. “I’m just super booked up today. I need to go to town and buy some art supplies, and then I was meaning to go to the sauna today, and then I definitely have to wash my hair-”

“Excellent, so you’re free,” Claude said, handing her a slate with a list of fortification needs. “You can join me while I inspect the battlements today.”

Hilda pouted, “Ugh, and you chastise _me_ when I get someone to do something for me because I’m cute?”

Claude winked at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a special place in my heart for the ensemble cast of FE3H. It's a joy as a writer to try on different voices of all these amazing different characters. I've been getting sisterly Alexis Rose vibes from Hilda for ages, so I had to let it play out.
> 
> If you are looking for more Claude/Jadzia(Byleth) heat, don't worry there's a lot more on the way in a few weeks. But if you want to reread the juicy parts, Chapters 4,5, and 10 are the most explicit so far, with a little make-out sesh in 7.


End file.
